


Operation Bosco

by Fallen_Ark_Angel



Series: Remember Me [55]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 138,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23761210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallen_Ark_Angel/pseuds/Fallen_Ark_Angel
Summary: No one said liberating a kingdom would be easy.
Series: Remember Me [55]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/209921
Kudos: 3





	1. New Arrivals: Part I

The safe-house, currently, was nothing more than a little bricked house in the dead of nowhere, close to the boarder, but distant from the towns that speckled it. There was a peace found there, a calm in the land it set upon, mostly abandoned prior to its currently usage.

In another life, a family had certain resided inside its walls. Up in the attic, there still sat boxes with the assorted personal affects that had been left behind, some framed photographs and the like, not of interest to its current inhabitants. It was a small place, just a thrown together home by its original inhabitants. There was a garden on one portion of the land and even a barn, now used to house extra weaponry and equipment (and, occasionally, to sleep those who were turned away from the main house). Clearly, at one point, whoever lived here had been there for the long haul.

But they weren't there anymore. And were of no concern in the early days of summer, when the sweltering heat drove everyone outside, to spread across the surrounding field, busy in their own ways. They were in an awkward period currently, where the house wasn't bursting at the seams, but they also weren't partaking any any covert missions across the boarder.

No.

There had been an incident. Or perhaps quite a few, spread across the span of over a year, failures, really, and a lack of faith had been instilled in those who previously believed so heavily in the proposed uprising.

It was in this downward spiral, this awkward period, that one of the larger guilds in the Kingdom chose to descend aid. Fairy Tail was rather well respected and when there was word of them sending two of their best, a bit of anticipation spread among those it awaited. By the time they arrived, however, a few months later, anxiety had slipped away from those who remained and turned more into sour feelings.

Not that the people who arrived were exactly who were promised. Yes, one claimed to be of the highest rank among the Fairy Tail guild, but he was widely unknown and appeared to be nothing more than a glorified medic, while the other, though claiming much prowess, inspired little faith.

But they sported the crests of one of the most respected guilds in the lands and, of that guild, two of the most legendary surnames.

Had they arrived only months before, perhaps there would have been more hope given. These days, however, only the most embittered remained and though they had quite the passion for the work they were doing, they were also rather stubborn in their ways.

Three weeks had gone by since the two Fairy Tail mages arrived and, while they were all slowly becoming adjusted to one another, growing pains were still abound.

Locke Redfox was the newest of the superior rank in Fairy Tail and had been excited (though nervous) in this new venture. Master Erza had hand picked it for both he and his girlfriend, in something close to a showing of goodwill, and while it was hardly a topic he was well versed in, it was rather fascinating to find himself not entangled.

The first night he and his girlfriend arrived in the closest nearby town, he was a bit hesitant about the directions they had been given by their Master, but led the way regardless, both rather stiff after a day and a half of train travel. They got lost a bit, in the woods, and were both kind of arguing with one another when they spotted the soft lights of the house in the distance, and hedged their bets that it was the right place.

He showed off his guild marking as they approached, after being requested, as they stepped out of the woods. Someone was keeping guard over the property, but rather than handling out a hand, brimming with magic, it was the end of a buck rifle shoved in their faces.

After some tense words, the man doing so lowered the gun with a grin of his own and Locke returned it easily, laughing with a bit of unease while his girlfriend, at his side, only eyed what laid in the dim light before them.

Bosco wasn't something that was spoken about frequently. A neighboring kingdom, there was some trade going between it and Fiore, but nothing that would concern either's standard citizens. Honestly, as a child in Fiore, you most often heard of Bosco when threatened by your parents for a plethora of things. Break curfew? Be careful; someone could snatch you up, right off the street, and drag you to Bosco. Defaming or not revering the King or Queen enough? Don't you realize how much better you have it? With your king and queen? Than they do in Bosco?

It felt like a boogeyman, a dark, mythic place that you should never venture, ever, or risk getting caught up in the seedy underworld it enabled. Bosco was where you went when no guild would take you, when you had no other skill left to offer, or, in the rare case you had the money to fund yourself, to partake in despicable practices.

Once, long enough now that it almost felt like a life time ago, Haven Dreyar had found herself within its border. She'd been taken across by some people looking for someone unafraid of electrical lacrima manipulations and, though she had no previous training in that, she more than showed her worth in the electrical realm. She was, after all, Raijin's daughter.

She'd heard the stories about Bosco before. Some of the older wizards in Fairy Tail had visited or dealt with some of its shady beneficiaries. Of course, their stories were no doubt inflated, as was the standard for bar stories, but she did have a pit in her stomach, when she boarded that boat to Bosco.

It wasn't as if she were doing anything illegal. But it was certainly something she would no longer consider, would have counseled her younger self against, but at the time she was a teen, a homeless one, who was trying to make a name for herself. A paid trip to another Kingdom with the promise of further pay was the exact thing she was looking for.

Honestly, things weren't so bad there. From the outside perspective she was given, at least. She was viewed as a guest, hired help, and considering she'd gone the legal route across the boarder, had something close to the protection of Fiore on her side.

The Kingdom was vast, not unlike the one she was leaving behind, and the part she visited wasn't too deep within the border. It was grasslands, just stretching out for miles, with rows of fields speckling the countryside. She imagined, back then, that it was a lot like what her mother grew up in, from all her stories of life before Magnolia. It comforted her then, for the few weeks she spent in Bosco.

It didn't feel seedy or underground as everyone always talked it up to be. Until, well, you took notice of the silent 'help' that seemed to float about.

She always kind of imagined it to be outright horrific or, maybe, done in the shadows, but instead, it just seemed to be the standard. The man who'd hired her for the electric work made a small reference to her, in regards to not making a big deal of it to the client and she honestly was able to reconcile the concept a bit. Or at least tired to. Bosco was its own Kingdom with its own customs and her entire focus, in her original time away from the guild, was on being an adult. No one else was making a big deal of the issue and, being in such an unfamiliar land, it felt best to just keep her head down.

But...if there was any key point about Haven, it was that she couldn't do that. Just go with the flow. Stay in line. She was an upriser and, having grown up in a wizard guild, where the idea of a moral code wasn't only implemented, but also expressed as your job to uphold, it was only a matter of time before she had enough of the goings on.

She thought about it constantly, when she was finally able to return to her rightful kingdom. All that had gone on while she was in Bosco. Even years out, while accompanying Ravan on the Monster Gauntlet, there was deep desire she held, not only to for revenge, but also to do something about the injustice she'd observed. It went back to that naturally imposed moral code; once you see something, it stays with you. But unlike her older counterparts who traded the tales for war stories, she actually wanted to do something about it.

Which is why she could tell the it was all bunk, that first night she and Locke were welcomed into the brood. If you could even call it that. Honestly, there were so few of them that it felt much less like an underground agency bent on overthrowing a sadistic, antiquated practice and far more like a group of people who, for some reason, just liked hanging out in the middle of nowhere with people they hardly tolerated.

It was Xavier, the youngest of the resistance it seemed, puffing out his chest that first night, as he swung his rifle around quite dangerously, Locke felt, that took them up to the house. He was a young kid, shaved head, and a rather pale complexion. His dark eyes were wide though, when he studied the guild marking Locke presented him (perhaps even more so when Haven revealed where hers laid upon her chest) and he stumbled over himself some, as he led the pair to base.

Astra was who he took them to first, the leader of sorts. She was seated out on the back porch of the tiny house, on a step, smoking something that smelled sweet. Standing at their approach, the women looked them both over with a bit of a knowing smile placed upon her lips.

"The two Fairy Tail wizards have arrived, hm?" She looked sad though, in the moonlight, as her smoke hung between two fingers, glowing slightly as it burned. "What an honor."

Haven could feel it, the way Locke straightened up. Tensed. And it had less to do with their introduction and more with who they were being introduced to. She was older than them, Astra was, but not by much. Maybe not even thirty yet. Tall, far taller than Haven, either even or perhaps even slightly more than Locke. She held herself well though, her posture straight as her hair, looking brown in the soft moonlight, but when she shifted some, back on her feet, the porch light above them caught it more and it appeared more red.

She was striking. Beautiful. And Locke clearly took notice.

It was hardly an interest to Haven, however, as she questioned, "So when do we go to Bosco?"

Astra looked to her then, the smile that graced her tan flesh not quite reaching her eyes as she remarked, "Eager. It's much appreciated. Had you arrived a few months prior, perhaps there would be better prospects, but unfortunately-"

"Don't dash 'er hopes the first second she gets here."

This came from behind Astra where, from through a screen door, a man was peeking out at them.

"At least let 'em put their shit down, yeah?" The man was moving to open the mesh door then, as if to welcome them inside, "Before we tell them what a colossal failure this all has turned out to be, huh?"

"Shut up, Richard!" Xavier, who had been standing slightly behind Locke and Haven, rifle held across his chest, moved to start up the porch then to glare at the man. "What do you know, huh? We're doing great! We-"

"What are you supposed to be doing right now, Xay?" Astra questioned, moving to block his path with a frown. "Patrolling?"

"But he-"

"Then go patrol." Astra brought her smoke back up, to take a puff, before remarking, "Who knows what other visitors are waiting out there for us, huh?"

He grumbled though, Xavier did, as he slowly backed down and turned from them, to resume his long march across the property. Locke looked to Haven then, uneasy, but her eyes were only on Astra, watching as she turned to climb up the porch in Xavier's place.

"What do you mean?" the blonde question as, when Astra walked into the door Richard, a shit eating grin lighting up his bearded face, continued to hold open. "Is this not the group trying to help free the slaves in Bosco?"

"Thank fuck we are," Astra assured over her shoulder as, directly inside, they stepped into a small kitchen, "'cause if we weren't, youdda just alerted someone else to our presence."

Locke had attempted to follow Haven in, but Richard, at the door, held out his hand as he questioned the younger guy, "Just 'cause a man let's a pretty lady in don't mean he gotta do the same another man."

Sour, Locke frowned at him as he remarked, "That 'pretty lady' is my girlfriend."

"Oh, yeah? Lucky lad." Richard still left his hand where it was, just barely grazing Locke's chest. "But to get into my top secret base here-"

"It's a house."

"A secret house," the other man insisted. "And to get in, I need some sorta payment. Some cigarettes, a cigar, booze. You must have somethin' like that in your pack, eh?"

"N-No." Locke frowned. "What do you mean? Why would I bring anything like that with me?"

"You come from a fuckin' guild, don't ya? We all got our vices, guild wizard's, yeah?"

Not exactly wanting to admit Haven was his vice (much less share her), Locke only shrugged at the guy who groaned before dropping his arm.

"C'mon then," Richard gave in, taking a step back. As the door started to swing shut, Locke was certain to weasel his way in before it closed him out. "I'll let ya through just this once."

Inside was no rougher than the out. The house was outdated and, though patched up, clearly wasn't up to snuff. The wallpaper was stained and tearing and the kitchen floor tiles were either cracked or missing all together, showing the cold hard cement foundation beneath. As Locke noted the grime, Haven continued to only have eyes for Astra who, at the moment, had gone to stand over the kitchen table.

"So you are who we're looking for," Haven insisted and Astra nodded some as, after a last, long inhale, she moved to snuff out the smoke into an ashtray on the table.

Over her shoulder, she remarked, "We're just going through a downturn, is all. Things have been a bit...stagnant, of late. To say the least."

"There's a lot fucking more to say and you know it."

Haven and Locke's eyes both shot to the doorway of the kitchen where another new person stood, a far less playful glint in their eyes.

Astra rolled her own eyes deeply though they didn't dart that way as she instead only remarked, "Thought you were sleeping? Shae?"

The woman, Shae, strode into the kitchen with her arms folded while her bright green eyes glared both Haven and Locke up and down. Her black, freckled face was marred a bit, above the cheek bone, from some sort of scarring that seemed to trace her right eye socket. As se came to a stop before them, her height topping out right about even with Haven and, she glared at the blonde in particular, it was returned in spades.

Locke, thankful to finally see someone their age, held out his hand with a grin. This seemed to catch the woman off guard, just a bit as, without even waiting for her to take his hand, he began to introduce himself.

"This," he said with a nod at his side, "is Haven. And I'm Locke. We're from the Fairy Tail guild. Are you guys all from guilds too? Or-"

"No," Astra answered as, slowly, Shae did move to take his hand, shaking it with a bit of unease. "We're all...something else."

"Speak for yourself, eh?" Richard came over to retrieve Astra's discarded smoke. Producing a lighter from his pocket, he seemed insistence on getting a few puffs of his own as, around this, he remarked, "Ain't nothin' fancy like your prized Fairy Tail, but I hail from a guild, yeah? 'fore I came 'round, I was pretty well known. Used to have a sayin' and everything. 'Oh, you fucked up now. Here comes the Dick!'"

"That's," Astra questioned, sounding bored as she glanced over at him, "what they'd say?"

"That's what they'd say."

Haven's glares were failing now as, realizing they were bringing her no benefit, she took instead to huff and questioning, "Are more of you? Like, in Bosco right now? Are you guys just the, like, b-team or something? Because I think I should definitely be moved up. Locke can stay-"

"Haven," he griped with a frown.

"-but I definitely belong on the A-Team," she finished. Then, with consideration to the 'new her' she had spent the past few months trying to foster, she added,"No offense."

"While I'd love to send you far away, across the boarder," Astra assured her as Haven felt all their glares then, "but if there's an A-Team, you're looking at them. And no one here's agreed you can even stick around. No offense."

With a snort, Haven looked off before retorting, "So what did we come all this way here for then? Are you guys...giving up? Or-"

"Rebuild," Richard took over then, his tone not as tense as the women. He grinned at Locke and Haven then as he told them both, "Perhaps it's a good thing you've both arrived now. Caught us at a bad moment, but c'mon; let's all get along, yeah? Two of them might even be helpful in getting things back on track, Astra."

But the woman in question only shook her head a bit before saying, "You're here now. Both of you. I met her once, your master. Erza Scarlet. If she thinks that the two of you can be of help to us, then I welcome it. But right now… I think a few days are in order, for the two of you to familiarize yourselves with the rest of us, as well as get your bearings. I'm working on something at the moment that will hopefully be coming together soon. Maybe it'll involve one of you. Maybe not. But for tonight… I guess we should merely welcome you. It's not much, but for right now, this is base. Make yourself at home."

When she finished talking, Astra merely nodded at both Haven and Locke in turn before walking off, towards the doorway Shae had just come through, little care paid to the eyes on her back.

Locke, who didn't do well in awkward situations, was clearly apprehensive, but Haven had spent plenty of time, those three or so years she was out on the streets, in similar circumstances. They were hardly the first group she'd crashed with close to their demise.

Still, they were a group she hadn't wished this on and, as Astra disappeared into the hallway, she looked to Richard.

"Now what?" she questioned simply and only moved to hold the smoke out to her.

"Relax," he suggested. "Look around. Careful though, outside- Xavier's a bit, uh, touchy, yeah? Might blast a whole right through ya."

When Haven didn't take the smoke, he laughed, walking off with it, back into the hallway as well. Now that there were three, Locke took to smiling at Shae once more, but again, she only glared at Haven before turning off as well.

"Barn's empty," she suggested over her shoulder. "Maybe you'd be more comfortable out there."

Alone now, Locke looked to Haven with a bit of hesitation, clearly feeling like their whole trip had been for not, and though Haven feared this as well, she also didn't take well to hazing. Which was surely what they were undergoing at the moment. Being treated like outsiders because they were, you know, outsiders. And while she definitely planned on bailing before this all went to shit, Haven was nothing if not resilient (and insistent).

They weren't going to drive her out. No way. She'd fought hard to be here and no one was going to take it from her.

"Haven," Locke started, but she didn't particularly want to hear what he had to say over the whole thing and, instead, ventured further into the house.

"They said make ourselves at home." Haven walked into the hallway, glanced down it, and noted the three closed doors. Straight across from the kitchen, however, seemed to be a tiny living room and, walking in there, she finally slung her pack off her back. "So let's do that."

His unease was palpable, but Haven only slammed down on the room's couch, arms folded over her chest as she glared towards the doorway, waiting for someone else to come around to continue the gauche scene they'd only just escaped. When no one came though, she eventually did relax, back into the couch, watching as Locke squatted down on he knees and began to release his sleeping bag from where it hung, snapped into the bottom of his pack.

"Did you wanna stay in here?" he questioned his girlfriend before he unrolled his sleeping bag. "Or the barn?"

She gave him a look then. "I'm not sleeping in the fucking barn."

"I dunno," he sighed, unfurling the sleeping bag. "Might be more comfortable."

"A barn?"

"Away from people actively acting like they don't want us here."

Somewhat sympathetic then, she offered, "A lot of people pretend like they don't want me around at first. I think it's a coping mechanism for when they see how great I am. They don't wanna spoil themselves."

"Yeah, Have, I really don't think it's that."

There was very little movement in the house the rest of the night. Locke stretched out on the floor and Haven was kind enough to turn the lamp lighting the room off, for his benefit, but she didn't follow suit. No. She sat up, on the couch, silent mostly, waiting for there to be some sort of movement.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Richard did emerge from one of the back rooms. He didn't even glancing in on where Haven and Locke were, instead heading into the kitchen and just as quickly out the backdoor.

Not one to let a moment pass her by, Haven was quick on her feet, thankful for Locke's passing out, as it gave her the ease of escape without much internal debate.

"Hey, wait up." She made no show of hiding herself though, as she slipped out the backdoor after the man, him glancing over his broad shoulder with a bit of a bemused grin. "I want to talk to you."

"You're in luck," he offered with a nod as, though he didn't stop, he did slow down some, allowing her to catch up as they made their way across the desolate property. "I'm 'bout to not have much to do, other than walk around this place. You can join me. Get a feel for it. Won't be long til Astra's got you doin' it too."

It was a warm night out, but not muggy, though the overgrown grass did feel a bit marshy beneath their boots. Richard seemed uncertain of where he was heading, changing slight direction a few times, before, in the distance, they could see a soft white light slowly swaying around.

"Hit the sack, X," Richard called out as they approached it. "Takin' over watch, yeah? Me and my pretty lady friend here."

Typically, Xavier would head into the house, not stopping to confer with whoever relieved him of watch, but that final sentence made him head right over to where Richard and Haven stood, his shining flashlight in the darkness making them both squint some.

"Sorry," the teen apologized, lowering the light while Haven mostly eyed the hunting rifle he now had slung over his back, the butt sticking up over his scrawny right shoulder. "But how did things go with Astra? What did she say? Now that they're here, are we going to-"

"Nothing's changed worth noting," Richard told him simply. "Astra and Shae sealed themselves off in a room to sulk. What else is new, eh? Women."

Xavier's face darkened though as he glared up at the man, retorting simply, "Astra knows what she's doing. Of course she does! Why did you even stick around if you don't think so?"

But Richard only grinned, that same shit eating one he'd exhibited since Haven's arrival, as he told the teen, "A man has his reasons."

As Xavier narrowed his eyes, Haven only broke her rare silence by questioning the teen, "How old are you? Anyways?"

And he puffed out his chest then, after taking a step back from the man, to address Haven with the deepest she'd heard his voice so far, remarking, "Fourteen. But almost fifteen, really. Fifteen. Practically."

When she laughed down at the ground, he deflated, looking hurt, but Haven was quick to shake her head and assure him, "That practically is fifteen, yeah. Hey, let me see your flashlight for a second, huh?"

He was still frowning, but did as asked (he seemed to think highly of her, though they'd just met; Haven imagined it had something to do with her guild marking), handing over the flashlight with a bit of a shaking hand. Taking it, Haven only flipped open the bottom, which hid a tiny, internal lacrima.

"Your lacrima," she said simply as, as Richard snickered and Xavier's eyes light up, her hand began to illuminate and spark, "is going out. It's why it's not too bright. Let me recharge it for you."

The light it shone then was far more brilliant and Xavier thanked her, softly, when he reclaimed the tool before questioning, "Is that your...magic? Electricity?"

Nodding, Haven was sure to add, "Part of it, yeah."

"Go to sleep, X," Richard ordered, his tone a bit more serious then with the young teen, nodding back towards the house. "You can have plenty of time to get our new members in the morning, huh? And be quiet going in- Don't want Astra or Shae on ya."

They watched together, Richard and Haven did, as the light disappeared across the property, back up to the house, leaving them alone in the darkness. When the man began to walk once more, Haven was quick to follow.

"What are you guys even on the look out for?" she thought to ask then, but like with most else, Richard only gave a soft laugh and a shrug.

"We got a little heat, from the capital, about a year ago," he told her simply. "People at the top don't like much when you start meddling in the affairs of other top people; even when they're from an entirely different kingdom. But that was back when we had members. Real, solid number of members. Sneaking back and forth across the boarder. Thinking we were accomplishin' somethin'."

"What happened?" she questioned softly and there was no grin this time to accompany the shrug.

"Weren't actually accomplishin' much, actually," he told her simply as they walked then, together, along the treeline. "There was another guy here, you just missed him, who used to run things. Astra and him were real tight. They put it all together with one another. She comes from money, yeah? Lots of jewels. In Bosco. They both fled it together, to start this group. A...liberation of sorts. Been at it for three, four years now. Nothin' was comin' of it. Fiore started comin' down on us and eventually…people just started leavin'. Can't blame 'em. Been pretty stagnant, things have been, of late."

"But what do you guys even do?" Haven continued to insist. "Like...what were you doing? In Bosco?"

"In the beginning? Raising awareness. Get members across the boarder, spread the word among the people. To those we thought would help us. Got a lotta members that way. Not everybody in the country agrees with the practice. A lotta the practice, really, that the King decrees. Not hard to find dissenters; you just gotta cast a line." Richard looked up then, at the moon shining overhead, and grinned. "But wha' do ya do from there, huh? It's a kingdom; ain't gonna win an audience or argument with the top brass. Not when you're talkin' about completely toppling their economy. So what do you do? Stage few protests, some uprisings, maybe some, uh, magical interference here or there, but… We're just at a crossroads, eh? Depending on which way Astra goes..."

"So every just...left?"

"Mostly," he agreed with a nod of his head. "'cept for those of us who ain't got nowhere to go."

"You said you're from a guild."

"Also said I got my own reasons for stickin' around." Glancing down at her, he said, "I'm guessin' you got your own for comin' all this way, huh? A day too late. Well, a lotta them, maybe, but-"

But Haven only said, "Your leader...Astra… What's her next move?"

"Dunno."

"But she said she's working towards something."

"We're all working towards somethin'."

"You can't just give up."

"Who's givin' up?" Richard questioned back. "We're out here, tryin' to figure it all out again. If we don't, we don't; but we're still tryin'."

And Haven wanted to argue back, because there was an extreme defeated attitude that she'd noted, already, surrounding those on the property, but at the same time, trying was her new motto.

It was difficult to scold for someone else doing the same.

"Maybe...you're focused in on the wrong thing."

"Eh?"

Haven wasn't looking at him, frowning instead as she said, "My...friend told me once, when I was talking to him about wanting to help the slaves in Bosco, that it wasn't my fight. That it was theirs. And nothing would change from some outsider from Fiore starting things. You guys have been trying to get to, like, citizens and things, but it's not their fight. Maybe some of them aren't comfortable and you could use their help, yeah, but first, you gotta make some other people uncomfortable. If you're not a part of a solution, then you're part of the problem. They're not who we want to save."

"What do you know about Bosco?" he asked softly, his voice sounding small then, but maybe Haven just couldn't hear it, over her own thoughts.

"I...went once. I worked there. For awhile. For one of those top brass you were talking about." Haven squeezed a fist tightly. "Ira Ewing. I worked on his manor. I saw what he did. I...got caught up in what he did. And now… I fucking know enough about Bosco."

Richard let out a soft hum of sorts, but offered nothing else up, and maybe it was for the better.

Walking in silence for a moment, Haven eventually held up one of her arms, allowing the electricity to flow through it and light up the area around them. To Richard, she said, "How come you don't have your own flashlight? Or borrow that kid's?"

"I kinda like the dark."

"Or do you not really give a shit? About patrolling?"

His grin looked rather eerie, illuminated by her light, as he questioned down at the blonde, "What do we got that someone would wanna take anyways?"

Nothing, it seemed like.

When Haven got back to the house, she thought that Locke would have woken up, or even left to find her, but he was still sleeping and she thought it best to leave him that way. He was always so nervous about shit and, well, she did at least feel somewhat poorly for leading him into this situation. Rather than crashing on the couch, she unrolled her sleeping bag as well, pushing a coffee table out of the way a bit, so she could be right beside the man.

After snoozing the last day and a half away on the train, however, she did little more than lay awake and await daylight.

It felt like it took forever to come. But not comparatively to the rest of their time on the property. Now that stretched on for eternity.

That first morning was awkward, of course, and the day was spent with Locke more than trying to make friends with all those about while Haven observed in the same closed off way she always had. While she'd more than cared for herself, back before she rejoined Fairy Tail, and was able to easily find a way to bounce from place to place, something was just...different, when Locke was around. It all came to him with such an ease, making friends and allies, that her attempts felt silly and childish beside. It didn't help that her immediate response to his attempts at easing tensions was to toss jabs his way, falling back into insulting the man (a favorite pastime), which only increased the awkwardness in most situations.

This felt a little different, however. She and Richard had something of a rapport, the night before, and that Xavier kid seemed thoroughly enthralled with both she and Locke. As was frequently the case for Haven, other women seemed to be her hardest barrier to broach.

This wasn't the case for Locke though. Of course not. Astra seemed rather flustered, that first morning, sighting their arrival as having thrown off her typical attitude (as well as whatever was laced in that smoke she and Richard shared) and she did seem, by all accounts, much warmer in the following days. Not quite what Haven was expecting still, but more approachable.

Shae seemed unimpressed with Haven all together. At first, Haven thought she was annoyed by both she and Locke, perhaps even from some dealings with Fairy Tail or the like, but this didn't seem the be the case. When he spoke to the other woman, she didn't give him those same distant looks or seem to be actively avoiding him, the way Haven was definitely certain she was doing to her.

But it didn't matter.

At all.

Haven had to keep reminding herself of this.

Her mission, after all, and goal was to help Bosco. If the people here turned out not to provide her with a pathway towards that, then she'd just have to find another way.

Locke seemed to become comfortable with his new friends though. He found them all interesting (if not a bit exhausting), but always enjoyed getting to know new people. It was almost easy to forget the immense reason they'd come there in the first place.

Almost.

Astra was illusive, frequently disappearing or locking herself into one of the two bedrooms, to speak softly on a lacrima. Haven stalked around most days, waiting for the woman to finally send her on some sort of...mission or something, but this didn't seem to be coming and eventually, she found a way to get out some of her aggression over this fact.

Though he was rather nervous at first around their new guests, Xavier quickly warmed up to the idea of tussling with Haven. And she was more than ready to throw down. They spent many days in those few weeks tumbling out in the warm grass, training in combat and her sharing (bragging) over previous accomplishments in her guild, as well from her time away.

It felt like a strange sleepover, just wrought over the course of weeks. They all kind of woke around the same time (it was hard not to in such cramped quarters) and the others argued a bit over the food in the fridge.

"How do you guys fund it anyways?" Locke asked eventually after offering, hoping to win over some good faith, to head into town and get some groceries for everyone. He got some light ribbing from Richard, over a request spending his sparse jewels on smokes being denied, but the others seemed rather grateful. "Living like this?"

"Weren't many people around base, before," Richard offered with a shrug. They stood out on the back porch as he gave the younger man directions to the nearest town. "Like I told ya though, Astra comes from money. This was partially her project. She won't let us starve."

"She'd probably let _you_ starve," Shae muttered from where she sat on the porch step, watching in the distance as Haven and Xavier wrestled in the early morning. "At least."

But he only shrugged at Locke before remarking simply, "Women."

Haven and Xavier went out with him to shop and, as the younger teen ran off the second they made it to town, to go explore, the two were finally able to converse alone for the first time.

"So how long are we staying?"

She made a face at her boyfriend, the blonde did, retorting simply, "You're way more cozy here than I am."

"Some of us are social."

"I'm plenty social."

"Sure."

"And what do you want me to do?" she kept up. "Master told us to come here and help."

"There's nothing to help with here," he pointed out. "Everyone is just kinda...hanging around. And we could do that back at home. I was thinking about telling everyone to head back to Magnolia with us and we can work with some of our other friends at making a new task force and-"

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"I mean no."

They were in the town's market and there were many people (and obstacles) about, but Haven and Locke mostly seemed keyed in on one another.

"I'm not going back to Fairy Tail until I do what I set out to," she kept up. "If we go back now, then Erza will hand it over to someone else. Or spearhead it herself. No way. This is ours. With these guys or without them."

But for all she tried to act indifferent to their new friends, Locke could tell Haven was at least somewhat happy. At times. When she wasn't busy worrying and seething.

The house was old and had no running water to the bathroom, but there was a creek not far away that they all sorta took turns bathing in. It seemed to beat arguing over a shower, at least, Locke thought.

He and Haven usually went down there together.

She'd sit by the edge, tossing rocks into the water as he bathed, both slowly becoming desensitized to the irregularity. It was kinda like when they were kids, maybe, just getting to go out on jobs on their own. They'd camp out a lot, just to get away from home, and taking dips in whatever body of water they could find to drive off the stench was welcome. Especially in the hot summer days when they'd all try, the two of them and Navi and Ravan, of course, to stay away from home from weeks at a time.

It was nice though, just to be away from the others. Even if it was only for an hour or so. There wasn't much to talk about, seeing as there wasn't much going on, but Locke liked when it was Haven's turn to bathe and he'd lay on his back, staring up at the clouds, and try to remember how lucky he was. To be here. With her.

Sometimes, it felt like this weird impasse, this dead end, was never going to end. Every other stage of each of their lives felt like a lesson waiting to be learned and, after gearing up to get bombarded with a bunch of them, Haven and Locke felt like this step had led them right into nothingness.

This all came to a rather sudden end, in one early summer week in particular, while Locke sat in the grass, watching his girlfriend once more spar with Xavier. Or he had been. The two had suddenly stopped, off in the distance, and both taken to lying back in the grass, catching their breaths. He was too far away to hear if they spoke to one another, but was keen to see how long it took for them to get back to their feet (as to gauge if he should head over there and offer some aid, in case Haven had, once more, gone too far on the teen) and this is probably what caused him to jump a bit, surprised when someone joined him in the grass.

It was Shae, a bit of a smile on her as, with little ceremony, she told him simply, "I overheard Astra speaking on the lacrima."

This shouldn't have been hard for her. There were two bedrooms in the house and she seemed to share one of them with the older woman. Richard told him back when there were way more of them, filtering about, it was kind of a 'find a place, sleep, head out to do what you need to', but now, he and Xavier bunked together, while the women did as well.

"Oh, yeah?" he questioned, still staring over at where his girlfriend was trying to catch her breath. While he wouldn't quite call them friends yet, Shae did seem to like him well enough. Locke couldn't quite blame her. Given the options in the house were Richard, who was hard to take, Xavier, who was as exhausting as most teens, Astra, who seemed too busy for most of them, and Haven, who, yeah, he was pretty used to, but could understand why no one else was, he liked to think he was the best catch. "I'm guessing you heard something good?"

But she only shook her head some, smiling while not offering up much else.

Out in the yard, as Haven finally shoved up in the grass, she spotted the other woman sitting beside her boyfriend and frowned some, but just as quickly was moving to pull Xavier back to his feet. As the teen griped a bit, she only shook her head.

"You remind me of my cousin," she said simply. "Ajax."

Though this was clearly meant to be a critique, her tone of reflection said otherwise.

But as she and the teen were shaking off their fatigue and preparing to rustle once more, there was a call from up on the property, where the house set, as Astra emerged from the house for the first time that day.

"Hey," the older woman called out from the porch. "I have news."

Oh, Shae knew.

It wasn't as if she were purposely eavesdropping on the woman, early in the day. No. But after going down to the creek to bathe, she came back to the house to put some things away and stopped short, outside the room she shared now with the older woman, catching her airy voice through the paper-thin walls. Usually, Astra would take care to use a much softer voice, but she seemed convinced of her solitude, given Haven, Xavier, and Locke rarely could be found in the house during the day (it could get rather stuffy) while Richard had been sent into town for a mail call and Shae, of course, was meant to be down by the creek.

And maybe, well, Astra was a bit excited herself.

She'd only caught wisps of it, through the door, Shae had, but it felt like more than enough, what she did hear, and when Astra called them to attention that afternoon, she felt like she knew the woman's words before they left her mouth.

"I," Astra began as she stood on the top step, addressing the others gathered around, "have been in contact with some sources across the border and I think I have a new plan of action. Richard and I spoke a few weeks ago on- Is he not back yet?" When all the others could only shake their heads, Astra rolled her eyes, heavily, before saying, "It doesn't matter. He and I had a conversation, a number of weeks ago, that led me down a new path. A change of course. Perhaps, previously, we were going about this all wrong."

"What do you mean?" Xavier asked with a frown, but Haven knew.

Because she'd been the one to have the conversation with the man first.

"I mean," Astra went on, "that I've spent the past few days finalizing what will be the first step in our new objective. There's no place for all of us currently, but after speaking with Luka, I've secured an easy path into Bosco for me and one other person."

Shae took a slight step towards the porch, subconsciously, as she'd heard her, on the lacrima, discussing this. There was no way she'd be taking Xay or Richard with her. No. She mentioned taking another woman and the only, most obvious choice would be-

"Haven." Astra stepped off the top step then, her eyes on the blonde. "I want you to accompany me across the border. From there, we'll-"

"What?" While Haven's heart was stopping in excitement, Shae's felt like it was pounding in her ears. Green eyes darkening, she took a true step forward then as she questioned, "What fucking good would it do to bring her there? Huh? You hardly even know her."

"What does someone need to know about me?" Haven retorted, turning to glare at the other woman. As Locke opened his mouth to caution her, she tossed up an electrified arm before announcing, "I'm the only strongest one around here. Why wouldn't she wanna take me into Bosco with her?"

"It has nothing to do with strength." But Astra wasn't looking at Haven. Frowning sympathetically at Shae, she only said, "She's been to the Ewing manor. Richard told me. And having someone familiar with it, as well as the man himself, is at least somewhat beneficial."

"The Ewing what?" Locke wasn't feeling the jealousy or joy either of the two women on his sides were, no. Instead, his stomach was sinking. "And Haven can't go to Bosco alone. I have to go with her."

"Shut up, Locke," Haven retorted, not even glancing at him. To Astra, she said, "I've been there. And I remember it. A lot of it. I-"

"But Mr. Ewing," Astra questioned, looking back to her, "doesn't know you well, does he?"

She wanted to lie, Haven did, but she was so conformed to doing the opposite in those days that, without even thinking, she answered, "No. I really doubt it."

"Are you sure?" the older woman kept up. "Completely sure?"

"It doesn't matter," Locke kept up. "Haven's not going to-"

"He won't remember me." Haven even sighed some over the fact. "At all."

Surprising the blonde though, Astra only nodded before remarking, "Good. I don't want him to. I need you to be aware of him and nothing more."

"I'd never forget him," Haven assured her, but Shae took the attention of the others then as, letting out a slight groan, she turned to stomp off.

"This is shit," she complained over her shoulder at them. "Fucking bullshit. We can't even trust them and you're taking them across the border? Fuck this."

"Shae," Xavier called after her, but it was no use; she needed to be alone.

While the others looked on in concern, Haven had had her fair share of storm outs and felt this one rather mild. Besides, she was far more concerned with herself (as always) and the flipping in her stomach.

After weeks of nothing, this all felt so sudden.

But fuck if she wasn't ready.

"You're not," Locke hissed at her that night, "going."

"Shuddup, Locke." She wasn't up to combating him as they laid there together, in the darkness of the living room, each in their own sleeping bag. "Go to sleep."

There had been a weird tension in the house, since Astra's announcement, and though Shae came back eventually, she only announced to Xavier (the only person she was willing to talk to it seemed) that she'd be taking first patrol and, well, no one was really fighting for that boredom anyways.

Richard had come back eventually, of course, and upon hearing the news, congratulated Haven on her trip abroad, but there was a bit of a knowing smile and Haven knew it was purely thanks to him that she was being given her chance, finally.

Locke was sour the whole day though, as well as the night. As his girlfriend shutdown every attempt he had at talking her out of going for the first hour, he took to sulking the rest of them, until they were laying there together, separated by their sleepingbags, but not by much.

"I'm not going to just let you," he kept up then as she kept her eyes shut and tried to get some much needed sleep, "just go into Bosco alone. Again. Haven, the point of all this was for us to be together. How can I protect you if we're not together? And why won't you tell me about this Ewing place? Huh? I don't… This isn't what I signed up for."

"You signed up," she retorted, "to help free slaves in Bosco. That was the orders your master gave you."

"I'm your boyfriend," he told her simply. "I'm here for you. Yeah, I give a shit about the situation in Bosco and yes, I want to help, but...this isn't how I envisioned it. I'm not letting you go across the border without me. Ever. At all."

"You don't _let_ me do anything, Locke."

"Haven-"

"I'm going no matter what you say," she pointed out. "So do you want to end on a fight? Or do you wanna be happy for me? For once?"

"You can't be serious."

"You're never happy for me," she kept up. "At all. You're always silently judging me."

"You're full of it."

"Full of hopes and dreams and you dash them constantly."

He shoved up then, from his sleeping back, just so he could glare down at her. But there was no way Haven was going to let him feel such power. Shoving up as well, she pressed her forehead into his from below.

"You're," he told her simply, "not going."

"I am, Locke." Eyes smoldering, she insisted, "Don't make me regret bringing you along with me."

He lost, he'd known the entire time he was going to, but it still hurt when he was the first to fall away, back into his sleeping bag, to pout up at the ceiling alone. And though she was victorious, Haven missed the feeling of his head against her own and instead of falling back into her own sleeping bag, she only leaned over her boyfriend's, a hand pressed against his bare chest as she stared down at his sour face.

"I won't be gone long," she insisted as he refused to give any sign of being alright with this. He wouldn't give her that comfort. "I love you."

"Love you too," he muttered through a sigh because, as much as he wanted to punish her, he'd only a year ago been stuck without ever being to return that vow to her. "Haven."

In the morning, Xavier was the only one that matched Haven's upbeat attitude over her and Astra going away. He walked across the property with them, gun slung over his back, insisting to the blonde that he would keep up with the regimen she'd had him on the past few weeks. Locke, who walked with them as well, kept glaring at the teen, but he didn't seem to recognize it.

"I don't imagine I'll be gone more than a week," Astra remarked to Xavier when, as they happened upon the treeline, Locke pulled Haven into a hug. Allowing them their goodbye, the older woman spoke to the boy instead, saying, "Keep Richard in line and Shae from killing him, alright?"

"Locke," Haven was complaining then, shoving him away when he seemed intent with just burrowing his face in her hair and never emerging. "You heard Astra. A week. At most."

He didn't like it though, how empty his arms felt as he had to take a step back. Still, softly he agreed and nodded, "Yeah. Two weeks."

Together, Astra and Haven headed to the nearest port city, which was only about half a day on foot. Once there, they met up with another woman, about Astra's age, down at the docks.

"Luka," she greeted Haven simply, shaking her hand. Her hair was cropped, bleached an unnatural white, and stuck out from beneath the brim of a cheesy, cliched captain's hat. As the blonde opened her mouth to reply her own name, Luka only dropped her hand before saying, "Cargo doesn't say much."

Which was how she found herself below deck of a massive ship for a day or so, with only Astra for company. The ship was rather busy, with crew filtering about, and they made two stops, in ports at Bosco, before they arrived at the one they were meant to depart.

In the interim though, as Haven and Astra tried to make themselves at least somewhat comfortable among the crates below deck, they shared something of a camaraderie. They hadn't spoken much, honestly, on their walk, but now alone, with nothing but the swaying of the ship to comfort them, it felt like as good of time as any to get to know one another.

"I guess we didn't get much of a chance to go over the specifics of what we'll be doing," Astra remarked as she sat up on one of the bigger box, perched on it's edge. "Everyone sort of...lost themselves a bit, when I announced I'd be bringing you along."

Haven, who was pacing about, shrugged a bit before saying, "My father was the master of my guild when I was growing up; I'm used to people being jealous."

"Shae wasn't...jealous of you." Astra made a face over at her. "She had ever right to think I wouldn't bring you along. You and your boyfriend just arrived. The only reason I chose you, at all, was because of your ties to Ewing. It'd be stupid of you to underestimate Shae."

Snorting, Haven retorted, "I can sense it. Or not, I mean, I guess. She's not a mage. Xay has some magic, not a lot, and Richard was a mage before this, but Shae-"

"The faster you realize your magic means little here," Astra retorted, "the better."

This got another snort and sneer from the blonde, but it was just as well. Taking in a breath, Astra released it into an uncomfortable smile.

"We're getting," she insisted, "back onto the wrong foot. I didn't bring you out here to scold you, anyways. And I have a good feeling the two of us are going to have a lot of dealings with one another; there's no reason we can't get to know one another better."

Haven stopped her pacing then before glancing over at the older woman with a bit of a frown. "Know one another better how?"

Shrugging, Astra kicked her feet a bit, as they dangled over edge of the crate. "When we got word from Fairy Tail that they would be sending us two higher up mages, I didn't expect...the two of you. But It was for the better, clearly. You're already proving valuable. Your boyfriend though-"

"He's more valuable than me."

Making a face, the older woman said, "Don't devalue yourself."

Haven never had.

Insistent then, she told the woman, "He can raise the dead."

But instead of digging further into that, like Haven expected, Astra only hummed softly as she said, "The two of you seem rather close."

"We are."

"How long have you been together?"

"Forever," Haven answered without much though, but as she caught herself, she decided not to correct it.

Again Astra made that same humming noise before saying, "And you trust him?"

"Of course."

"He's cute, I guess," she offered. "But needy. Most men are though. You grew up in your father's guild? All my teen years were spent on in Bosco, with my father plotting out my future engagement. The boy was nice enough, I guess, and I might even have gone through with it, but… I never found boys to be much interest. Men either." But then, after another hum, she added, "They can be of use though. Especially across the border. In the parts of society my family existed. I'm sure you understand."

Haven thought she did. Maybe.

"The women usually hold most of the power, really, in the upper families," Astra went on. "My mother, her friends… They all control their husbands, and their dealings, from the shadows. Don't forget that, alright? They smile to your face, but they're usually far more vicious. Especially to their slaves."

She was just standing there then, Haven was, staring over at the older woman, when she softly asked, "Did you...own people too?"

Her hum sounded softer then as she said, "It's the way things are. You don't even think about it. When you're a kid. Most of them? The men and women I'm talking about? They don't consider it even when they're grown. They're not...people. They're not _us._ They're other. And even when you realize, admit, come to terms with the fact that yes, they are, then you make other concessions because, how would life go? Without this barrier? It's...inconceivable. And how bad is it, really? If you treat them properly? Don't force them to… If you're only making them work, under threat, maybe, yes, but not outright action then… I can see it in your face. Haven. You have no sympathy for me."

"No," the blonde agreed with a heavy frown. "I don't."

And how could she? Not only was this sort of thing outlawed in Fiore, it was also detailed as barbaric, archaic, and evil. While she'd known, or at least assumed, after Richard told her Astra hailed from the upper class of Bosco, it felt far heavier to fully recognize the dealings the woman had in the practice.

"You shouldn't," Astra agreed. "It's difficult to reconcile that portion of my life, those memories, even now. But it's something we must get others to realize they too will have to face, within themselves, if we are ever to-"

"Richard told you what I talked with him about, right?" Haven took to pace once more, a fist clenched. "That's not how it has to happen. I don't a fuck about your stupid parents or their friends or any of those families you're talking about. At all. You can all fucking die for all I care. Watch everything burn around you. It's what you fucking deserve. How many people have to suffer while everyone waits around for them to come to the right decision? Fuck that. And fuck them. This isn't about them. This is about all the people you torture and abuse for your benefit. I want to help free them. I want to help save them. Not the rest of you from yourselves."

Astra remained silent, until Haven finished. Upon this, she took to nodding some as she said simply, "Yes. I know. That's part of why I brought you with me. I think I...have too much of a bias. A self interest. When we land, I am going to take you to the Ewing manor. Though I've been ousted from my family, it's not over all of this. When I ran off, it was because of my...preclusion towards my engagement. Still, I have some favor in Bosco. Ira Ewing and his wife will welcome me to stay in their home for a number of nights. I wanted you to accompany me, under the guise of my slave. You'll stay in their quarters and help spread the seeds of discontentment. I printed up something, for you to leave with them, detailing a plan I hope to put into action. Soon. But it will have to be spread among the slaves and kept away from the families. Do you understand? I chose you for a reason, Haven."

Of course she had.

Of course she had.

But there was something sickening about it, when Luka came down from above, the same magical stamp in her hand that Haven had seen before, so long ago, but it didn't feel so long ago, and after questioning if she wanted to go through with this, to which she only nodded her head, Haven felt it pressed into her forearm, marking it, burning it, with a magic that she didn't know how to remove. One that would could keep her bound in the Kingdom of Bosco forever.

As Astra eventually found some sleep, in those dreary hours below deck, Haven just kept staring down at where she had a new marking now, a dark black, separating her from the normal class in Bosco. When she tugged down the collar of her shirt, just a bit, she could see another marking, a better one, staining above her breast. A fairy. That was meant to watch over her and protect her.

It always had.

In Fiore.

But she wasn't in Fiore anymore.

It had all been a mistake, that first time around. When she came to Bosco. She should have never agreed to do the job. But she was hungry and running low on options, and it felt like at the good kind of misadventure she usually found herself in.

But it wasn't.

She wasn't in the Ewing manor. Not at first, no. Originally, she was contracted to assist with electrical for the Hortian family. It wasn't difficult work. But mages weren't as common, in Bosco, and she imagined electricity was hardly an element of choice.

But it was while she was working there, one day in particular, when some of the 'help' as the guy who'd brought her over from Fiore called them were getting scolded by Mr. Hortian. She'd noticed these sorts of things sporadically throughout her few days of having been there and was ready to just advert her gaze, but there was another man there that day as well.

Ira Ewing had been all she heard anyone in the manner talk about since she arrived. As she tinkered in the background on the lacrimas throughout the house, she overheard many speculations as to his arrival. He sounded rather important.

She didn't quite understand the hierarchy of Bosco in those days, but from what she could gather, he belonged up a level, in the families, compared to the one they were currently working for. The guy that hired Haven on made mention of hoping Ira would take notice of their work and invite them back to their manner as well, and even questioned if Haven would be willing to stay on that long, promising the resulting cicles (the currency of Bosco) would be well worth it. Exchange rates did seem to be in their favor and she was kinda excited for the idea too.

Haven was still unsure of what she wanted to be, in those first few months following her fleeing from Magnolia. And while this wasn't the standard work she was used to, it felt good to not have to think much, about things, like you did out on jobs. Consider the variables and all that. And she could kinda see herself then, for however briefly, accumulating jewels in this way.

But then, that day, not soon after Mr. Ewing arrived, Mr. Hortian noted some lackluster cleaning being done by some of his 'help' and was berating them over it while the other man stood by, observing.

"No, no," Ira finally griped a bit as, though the two men in question Mr. Hortian was scolding were staring down at their feet, submissive and silent, he saw fit to take over their punishment. "You must make them realize their mistake and given them a good reason for it to never occur again."

And he...struck them. Each of them. The men. In quick secession. Just rose his dominate hand and slapped them, on the sides of their head, hard enough that the sound reverberated through the hallway she was on the other end of.

It had to have hurt his own hand, even, she was certain.

Haven wasn't sure why it shocked her so much. But it really did. While she'd definitely taken note of the 'help' in the background, she'd yet to see someone in the family do more than gripe at them, hardly even with a raised voice. This felt...violent. And unnecessary.

Which at first was hard to reconcile, considering she was raised by physicality and most discipline stemmed from it in some way.

But these were grown men. Who didn't even look to fight back. Just fell to their knees, after being struck, and it was like some sort of perverse, bizarre display and she couldn't help it.

"Hey," she'd called out, growled, really, as she stalked down the hall, and Ira stared at her in disapproval while Mr. Hortian merely nodded his head.

"We," the latter man informed the other, "have another guest. Guests. From _Fiore_? Where they are not as...accustomed to-"

"When they reside in our boarders," Ira spoke only to the other man though his eyes were locked with the glare Haven was giving him, "they adhere to our practices. The same as when we visit abroad."

"Yes, Ira, but-"

"I hardly feel the need fear a child, in any advent," the man kept up and Haven snorted at this, her clenched right fist exploding with electricity.

"I am not," she told the man darkly, all of seventeen at the time, "a child. And if I see you touched one of them again-"

"Do not dig yourself further, child," Ira told her simply, his blank stare chilling. "Turn around and busy yourself as you were."

"Leave." Hortian said this to the men still bowed at their feet. "Now. Get back to work."

As they scurried away and Haven eyed Ira, someone else came rushing up. The man who had contracted her. And, as he clamped a hand down on her shoulder, it was with a grin on his lips and some apologies tumbling through them as he forcibly turned to lead her away.

And then it was her getting scolded.

"I get it," he said simply. "I'm from Fiore too. It's a lot to get used to. But you don't want to cross these men. We're not at home."

No.

They weren't.

Which must have been what made it so easy to make the difficult decision for the man. Who she didn't rightly trust, but had been traveling with for a few weeks and seemed to understand what her magic could bring him. Cicles. Jewels. Whichever. But the night following her confronting Ira, as she snoozed in the guest quarters the two had been given, the man was called softly from the chamber, paid off and sent away.

Haven liked to think he hesitated. If only for a moment. But it was like Ira said, wasn't it? Once you were in Bosco's borders, her rules rang supreme.

The monetary value his silence and disappearance, right then, into the night, leaving the blonde behind, was too much. Everyone had a price.

But fuck, if Haven wouldn't kill him if they ever ran into one another again.

She wasn't the heaviest of sleepers, honestly, but all that electrical work really drained her, especially day after day and the slumber she fell in that night must have been a tad too deep as she didn't feel it until it was too late, the stamp burning into the flesh of her forearm.

It was strange, metal contraption, cold on her flesh, and she tumbled out of bed at the feeling of it being pressed there. Two men, one of whom had been standing over her only moments before, applying it to her arm, were in the darkened room with her and in something of a panic that Haven raised her hand, to shoot a blast of lighting their way.

But none came.

She could feel the steady stream of static in her body, being absorbed and exuded naturally, but when she tried to shoot a bolt of lightning out of her open palm, no magic circle appeared.

"Who the fuck are you?" she'd yelled at them and the men weren't mages.

No.

They were henchmen of sorts though, maybe, working for Ira. Not that she knew it at the time. All she really knew was that she wasn't strong enough to fight them off, not without her magic, and they overpowered her easily and as she was drug from the Hortan manor, terrified and alone, she couldn't quite imagine what horrors awaited her at their next destination.

She'd been promised protection, being from Fiore, that nothing bad could happen to her, and had felt like, especially with her magic, it wouldn't matter if someone did try to harm her; she could always protect herself.

But sometimes those things didn't matter.

When you started dabbling in things you weren't comfortable with, you usually ended up facing some harsh realities. And as she laid, restrained, with a new, harsh marking on her forearm that night, in the back of a carriage, headed towards Ewing manor for the first time, it wasn't the protection of her kingdom she wanted; it was her father. And she called out for him, threatened his name, but finally she'd gotten what she wanted; to be somewhere that being a Dreyar meant nothing.

Haven didn't expect the wetness in her eyes as she sat there, below deck, running a hand over the magical ink that, once more, stained her forearm.

Marked.

Marred.

Sealing her magic inside herself.

Astra had Haven leave her pack in the boat, assuring her that Luka would keep safe watch over it. Along with whatever else she brought though, the older woman also reached out to gently tap a finger against the blue gemstone that dangled from her neck.

"Put it in your bag," she told her.

"Locke gave it to me," Haven retorted with a frown. They were above deck now, the port in sight on the horizon. As the crew hurried around them, Astra only continued to eye the blonde who retorted in that moment, "He wouldn't want me to take it off."

"He didn't want you to come here either," Astra pointed out. "And I only don't want someone to snatch it from you, when I'm not around, and you not to be able to fight back. Given your...situation currently. If you want, give it to me; I'll keep it safe until you can put it back on. Swear."

Haven didn't want to. But Astra seemed insistent and what said said made some amount of sense, anyways. The gem wasn't worth much, but it could look that way, maybe, and it was better to part with it momentarily than forever.

There was just a different feel to Bosco. Than Fiore. The air felt different and it was less densely populated. While Fiore could have long stretches between big cities, those were mostly filled with smaller communities; Bosco wasn't this way. There was just land, owned, but not populated, for hundreds of miles at a time. Most everything was either owned by the main houses or the Kingdom, in some sort of class system.

The port they entered through was different form the one she'd used last time she entered the Kingdom (as well as when she was smuggled back out, in a much smaller boat, with the assistance of her treasure hunting acquaintances), but that made sense. Ewing manner was deeper in the Kingdom and they'd more than likely arrived at a more direct point.

"Remember," Luka offered as she watched them depart, "you're in Bosco now, baby."

Yeah.

They were.

And a slave was expected to be as silent as cargo.

Astra paid off a carriage driver to take them to Ewing's providence, sitting up front with the man for most of the journey, while Haven sat alone, in the back, watching the countryside pass them by.

Time was passing much faster now, it felt like, after being at a standstill for so long, and Haven's stomach was in her throat, as she panicked a bit, in the back alone, considering what awaited them. She honestly had no idea if Ewing would remember her or not, though she imagined he wouldn't, given it was a small interaction five or six years prior and though she still looked rather youthful in her early twenties, she'd changed a lot since her teens.

Death would do that to you.

Rather than rolling hills, Ewings manner was set back in the valley surrounded by large mountain ranges, the tallest one's peak seeming to extend into the clouds. While Astra spoke to the man of the carriage she hired, Haven only took to looking around, a sickening feeling forming in the pit of her stomach as the memories of the last time she was here sprang to mind immediately.

"Remember," Astra whispered softly as, while the carriage drove off, they were left with a long, up to the wrought iron gates that surrounded the main buildings on the property. "You're not you, Haven. You're my slave. You are to be quiet and do as I say. Part of what allows me ease to travel between borders is the lack of people who recognize my shift of alliance; don't ruin it."

They weren't greeted by Ira, which was what Haven's clenched stomach was expecting. Rather, as they stood outside the gates, it was the lady of the house that came from it, rushing down the walk being flanked by her daughters, to greet them.

"Astraea," the woman called out as she approached. As a man who'd come out with them rushed ahead, to open the gates, the woman only smiled brightly. "It's so good to see you. How is your mother? Your father?"

"I wouldn't know," she admitted honestly and though the woman's daughters snickered snidely, Mrs. Ewing only came to take Astra into her arms and hug her rather familiarly.

It seemed like no one even noticed Haven was there.

But someone had.

The man who opened the gate, a the same marking besmirching his forearm as Haven now sported upon her own, nodded at her curtly and, after Haven returned it, he nodded the other way, off in the distance, towards one of the buildings in the distance. Not the main house. No. A shack by comparison. The housing for the slaves.

Astra noted it though, as she was busy being hugged by each daughter in turn, and was quick to stop this from occurring.

"She stays with me," she remarked easily and there was a bit of a giggle, just as snide, from the daughters then.

Because it hadn't been her kindness towards slaves that got Astra turned away from her family. No. And as well-kept as Haven looked, well, they could base their own judgments on why she would want to keep the blonde close.

But Haven didn't quite understand it. The reason for this ruse had been for her to 'spread seeds', as Astra had said, but she just vetoed her first chance at that. Still, though questions felt heavy on her tongue, she knew better than to let them loose, and only followed with her head bowed, wherever she was led.

It helped that the memories were all swirling back up now, bile clinging to her throat, and maybe Shae would have been better suited for all of this.

"Is your husband home?" Astra questioned as the group was quickly ushered back into the house. "It was him that I wished to speak to while I was here."

"There will be plenty time for that later," Mrs. Ewing assured her. "Come. You must wish to freshen up, after your trip. The girls will show you to your chamber."

If the past few hours had been odd, these were no better. Astra seemed equally as comfortable with the young women she was presented with. They knew one another, seemingly purely through the connections between their families, and given her excommunication from her own, this seemed to make her something of an outsider to them.

Still, they showed her to a nice bathroom, where a bath was drawn by the silent help and eventually, it was only she and Astra in the room, the tub filled with steaming water.

"You," Astra offered to her softly, "would be expected to help undress me now."

"That's not happening," Haven told her simply with a frown.

"Your loss," Astra teased and she didn't know how hard this all was for the blonde, just being back here.

How could she?

The older woman sunk beneath the suds in the bath while Haven, eventually, found herself sitting with her back up against the bathroom counter, counting the tiles on the wall.

"In my bag," Astra eventually instructed, "are copies of those instructions I mentioned to you earlier, that I want you to distribute. Take them out and find somewhere to hide them in the house, until you can get back to them later. Maybe in this bathroom? I'm not sure."

Glad to have something to do, Haven was quick to move over to where Astra had sat her pack, near the tub.

"I'll figure it out," Haven assured her and she caught the smile from the other woman and almost felt herself return it.

Almost.

Haven accompanied Astra to the dining hall (though, of course, she wouldn't be eating there with her), and it was then when it happened. When she saw him again.

And though she doubted his memory of her, all those years later, hers was only reinforced by his presence.

Ira Ewing was a stocky man, sharply dressed, and with a severe face. Some of his daughters, who Haven had seen before interacting with Astra, shared a similar one. But no one wore it like him. His eyes looked dead, almost, as his gaze bore holes into whoever he spoke with, and she couldn't imagine he found pleasure in much of anything that wasn't classified as full out debauchery.

She'd never heard his name before coming to Bosco, but oh, it had been burned into her memory since. He was a head of one of the five main houses, their power directly beneath that of the King. This meant that he controlled one of the five Providences in the Kingdom of Bosco.

If Haven could do as Astra asked and 'spread seeds' of doubt and revolt among those who worked under him...if she could pull it off...if they could…

This felt like far too high a task, right off the bat, but fuck, fuck, if Haven didn't love it. Wasn't exhilarated by the idea. The absolute power move it would be.

Yet…

The bile was all but out of her throat, seeing the man for the first time, and it took everything in Haven not to spark up, right then and there, and kill him. Fuck it all, just kill him, just kill them all, even, really, fuck the consequences, but…

She was sent to the kitchen for dinner, as even Astra couldn't get her into the dining room. It was for the best. Haven felt like she was going to pass out.

But as she was forced to clean up with some other marked women, scrubbing down the kitchen after preparations, all she could really think about was how she was going to spend the next few days here, feeling this way.

Dinner for Astra was tense as well. Not so much the conversation, but what she knew would be accompanying it. And when their plates were cleared away, Ira stood first, nodding at his wife before calling out for Astra to follow him to his office.

To finish discussing their business.

For a woman who'd been so warm to her before, Mrs. Ewing seemed to glare daggers into her back now.

"I know you're not one for formalities," she remarked as, instead of taking a seat, she stood before hers. Not that he took the one behind the desk either, instead going over to where a safe hung, on the wall, and began twisting its dial. "She's to your specifications, I assure you, and your liking. Right?"

" _Never_ ," he ordered harshly, not turning to look over his shoulder at her, "take such a relaxed tone with me."

"You don't even wanna know how I found her? Came into possession of her? What I had to give up, to get her, just so you could-"

"Get out of my house." When he turned back around, it was with a rather thick sack of coins. Cicles. Setting it on the desk, he nodded down at it before remarking, "And do not return."

"But what if I run into another cute little blonde?" Astra pressed her luck, a slight grin on her lip as the man smolder. "With blue eyes and magic? Huh? Should I just let her slip between my grasps? Or-"

" _Get_ ," he repeated and though there was no play before, somehow, this tone was laced with even less, " _out_."

Snatching the sack of coins, Astra nodded some, turning to do so. Still, she offered, "If you happen to talk to my father any time soon… Don't let him know you've seen me. Alright?"

Ewing gave no signs of agreement, but she only sneered at his silence and there was no one to bid farewell to her, as there were to greet her. The daughters were gone and the wife would want nothing to do with her, but it was all for the better, as she palmed the sack full of coins.

Night had already befallen the land and, as she started off from the manner, alone now, truly, she only glanced back at it once, swallowed, and nodded her head, knowing she'd made the right choice.

"Don't look so sad," Luka chided the next morning when she found the ship awaiting her, still docked, just as it had been, knowing she wouldn't be gone long. Though Astra was exhausted from her walk, there was clearly something else that was plaguing her thoughts. "Leaders as just like captain, Astra. You don't get to second guess your decisions; you don't have a chance to."

Maybe.

But as she sat below deck now, alone, it was with a soft sigh on her lips, sifting through the coins and doing some rough calculations into jewels.

It was a long, silent journey back to the safe-house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so the next saga begins.
> 
> Things are going to be a bit different than usual though. Everything dealing with Bosco will be dealt with within this story, if that makes sense, while it breaks up into segments. The first, that we're in right now, is New Arrivals, which will consist of three parts (we just finished Part I). Instead of starting a whole new story when New Arrivals is completed, the next segment (A Call to Arms) will just be added in here, broken up into it's own parts, and so on and so forth.
> 
> If that's confusing, don't worry, it basically just means everything encompassing Bosco will take place here, as opposed to it's own one-shots.
> 
> Now, since this is only Bosco stuff, there won't really be much (if any) interaction from anything other than OCs. The Remember Me universe isn't just standing around though, while this is all going on, and any one-shots (or other stories) that take place while we deal with this behemoth will contain the normal characters featured, like Laxus or Erza, as well as all the other offspring that aren't Haven and Locke. Like I said, if it's confusing, don't worry, it'll make sense as we go on.
> 
> This isn't going to be something goes by fast. Considering this is kind of a set of stories, I'm not just going to bang it out in a week or two. I'm not sure if I'll have a regular upload schedule for it right now, but it is all rough outlined (with New Arrivals getting a full one) and each piece of the story will get filled in as we go. It's gonna be a long one, more story driven than the Remember Me series as a whole, and kind of like a successor to it, in a certain way.
> 
> It will, on a whole, be dealing with a lot darker issues that are kinda glossed over in the rest of the Remember Me series. Considering the topic is the slave trade in Bosco, we'll obviously be diving into abuse (both physical and sexual in nature) as well as some other dark concepts, and if you wanna bail, I get it, but this is your trigger warning or whatever. I don't personally think anything will be super graphic, but if those sorts of things aren't your thing, I understand.
> 
> Anyways, thanks if you've made it this far and I'm excited to delve deeper into this with the few of you who are into it.


	2. New Arrivals, Part II

Operation Bosco: New Arrivals, II

It was sweltering out and only minutes before, there was something of an interest going around about heading down to the creek, not to bathe, but to just splash in the water some. This was mainly stemming from Xavier, who'd made the mistake of still going through with the workout regime that had been left behind for him to follow. Miserable from the heat, he'd suggested the idea to the others and, while prospects would have been a quick no before, they had a new member now.

Locke.

And he was kind of what they were missing.

Maybe.

If he was anything, the guy was rather good-natured. He was an open person, willing to befriend most anyone. He could easily go from juvenile joking with Xavier to nodding along seriously when Shae spoke to him. He seemed to have easy rebuttals to Richards attempts at riling him up, something both Shae and Xavier lacked.

It felt like a good fit.

So when Xavier suggested they all go down to the creek, to at least try and escape the heat, yes, it was at first completely disregarded by the others, but when Locke, who'd been sitting on the porch steps and staring at the treeline in the distance, waiting, jumped up and immediately declared he was game, well…it swayed the others a bit.

It'd be nice, anyways, Shae thought, to dip her feet in the cool, running water while Richard was already scheming about how he was definitely going to be holding someone's head under the water (for fun, of course).

Locke was thankful though, for his slight hesitance. He went back inside, to grab a drink, and it was this delay that made sure they were all still standing around, when someone could first be made out, approaching in the usual way, from the back of the house.

There was a loud groan, from Xavier, as he'd already tugged off his shirt, there on the porch, but knew now that any chance at some frolicking in the creek was out. Whatever had gone on in Bosco, obviously, would overshadow his desires. This seemed true as Richard, almost immediately, lost his jolly look and instead leaned against the porch railing, silent, while Shae stood at his side with folded arms, much the same.

When Locke stepped back out onto the porch, he almost dropped the glass in his hand. His stomach had been in knots, after all, since his girlfriend's departure and he was glad to see it come to an end.

It hadn't been too long, that they'd been parted, but still, he found himself jogging out into the yard, to meet Astra, the only one visible so far, halfway. She carried herself with the same confidence she always did, seeming to look through him as their eyes met, and Locke couldn't help it. He grinned, boyishly, as he called out to the older woman, still jovial for the moment.

Back on the porch, as Xavier grumbled while slipping his shirt back on, the others still all stood, watching the exchange before them as Locke, at first, spoke loud enough that his voice and question carried its way back up to them. This changed quickly, however, rather than walking on once she got to him, Astra stopped before the man and they seemed to be having a rather terse conversation.  
It was obvious even from a distance.

Richard had started forwards already, bounding down the porch steps, right about the time that Locke seemed to lunge at the woman, bunching the fabric of her shirt in both hands as he pulled her closer, yelling something at her. Everyone rushed then, towards the confrontation, as Astra only tried to shove him off.

"Where," Locke growled about the time that Richard came to pull them apart, "is Haven?"

"I told you," Astra insisted with a frown as Shae stood between them and Xavier, who was confused, stood off to the side, conflicted, "that she stayed behind in Bosco. She-"

"Bullshit," Locke insisted as Richard had to wrap a tight arm around the guy, holding him back from the woman. "Haven wouldn't fucking stick around Bosco."

"Wasn't the entire point in her coming to get to Bosco in the first place?" Astra retorted.

"Not without me."

"I offered her a chance at further work while there and she took it."

"You left her alone."

"I," Astra retorted, standing tall now as he only glowered over at her, unable to break the hold Richard had on him, "had an opportunity present itself to further the work we're doing in Bosco and seized it. I'm not going to apologize for it. And I highly doubt she would either."

Locke's struggles ceased then as, with narrowed eyes, he said, "She told me she'd be back, so sorry, I don't buy it."

"Believe what you want. But if you ever touch me again, I-"

"I'm going to find her." He delivered a sharp elbow, suddenly, to Richard, which made the other man release him with a swift intake of breath. Shae, the only one between him and Astra then, held up her hands in front of her, as if cautioning him over coming any closure, but Locke only glared around her, at the other woman. "I'm going to Bosco and-"

"How? Locke?" Shaking her head, Astra said, "I won't tell you where she is. Why would I? So you could jeopardize our mission? Not to mention the hassle of getting in there-"

"I told her I'd never leave her in that place, alone. Again."

"She went willingly and purposefully. I imagine she won't be gone long." Astra turned slightly then, dropping one arm out of her knapsack to dig around in for a moment. Pulling something out, she said, "Here."

Locke's eyes widened at the sight of the necklace he'd given Haven and, though he saw Shae tense, he easily ducked around her (she wasn't really attempting to hold him back, honestly; she seemed rather apprehensive over the whole thing as well) to go snatch it away from Astra.

"She wanted you to give this to me?" he asked, not even looking to Astra for an answer. Turning from them all, he stared down at the blue gemstone with a frown. It felt like a lifetime ago that he wrapped another necklace around his wrist, as a promise of the woman's return. Clutching it now, he took in a ragged, harsh breath before remarking, "If she's not back soon, I'm going to fucking get her."

"If you go," the other woman threatened to his back as, he stomped off, "and ruin my operation, Locke, you'll be sorry. And your Master will hear about it."

He didn't respond, continuing on with little concern, disappearing into the forest quickly. Xavier, after glancing at the other three, took off into a sprint, after the other guy, and though Locke shoved off his arm when he tried to toss it over the other man's shoulders, he didn't send him away.

Just the three of them then, Richard let out a slow breath before remarking, "Where's the blonde really, huh?"

"Exactly what I told him," Astra huffed with a frown up at the man. "Something came up while we were in Bosco and I told her she could stay behind to take care of it. Why is that so difficult to-"

"What," Shae asked slowly,"came up? And what were you guys doing there in the first place?"

"What do you think we were doing?" the other woman retorted. "We were trying to spread the word about the new objective."

"You're sayin' an awful lot to say so little," Richard said and Astra turned a cold stare onto him.

"You're the one that told me she had connections to Ewing," she replied. "It's the only reasons we went. She knows the manor and, now, she's going to stay behind and continue what I sent her there to do. She thinks that we need to focus on getting the prisoners to turn against their jailers? Fine. She can get that going. She came from a fucking guild; she can take care of herself. I'm not her fucking babysitter. And you're not mine either. Don't you morons have anything better to do?"

It popped back up, the contorted grin of Richard's, eyebrows raised as he informed her, "Was goin' skinny dippin', I think, 'fore you went and broke the lock. Well, now, guess it's for the better, eh? Wouldn't have been much fun, all sticks. But me and you-"

"Not much interest in dick." She made a face as his grin only spread. "Thanks."

"Open offer, Astraea. Never expires," he called after the woman as, finally, she'd head back up to the house. Watching after her, he laughed some before looking to Shae, "For anyone."

But she didn't acknowledged the man, not truly, as she stared after the other woman. Softly, she questioned, "Something's up."

"Something's always up." Richard's laughter died then, abruptly, as he ran a hand over his course, brown beard. "Better that way. Stops it from gettin' too borin', huh?"

Things were boring though. Or standstill, at least, still, back at base. That first night, Astra locked herself away in a room and Shae cooked dinner for herself and Xavier, the teen only arriving back at dark, seeming kind of down.

"Did he take off?" was all Shae questioned in regards to Locke, expecting this. "Xay?"

"Nah." He slumped down in his rickety kitchen chair, staring down at the plate before him with a frown. "He's by the creek. We hung out there all day."

It was night then. A crisp one, not a breeze to be had. The crickets had reemerged finally, around the same time as the cicadas, and they seemed to be battling it out that night, for who could disrupt the otherwise still night more.

When Shae stepped outside, it was with a plate in her hands. She could hear Richard whistling, somewhere in the distance, as he took first watch, but it wasn't to him that she brought the meal. No. In the pale light of the moon, she walked purposefully through the freshly cut grass (it had been part of Haven's regimen for Xavier to get that taken care of) with little fear. Even as the moon disappeared behind clouds and she entered the forest, Shae only ventured on, knowing the path well.

Locke was sitting by the creek, as Xavier had said, knees to his chest as he glared down at the water trickling passed.

"Here." Shae came to present him with the plate and, when Locke only turned his head, to stare at it, she made a face before adding, "I just walked all the way out here to give this to you. So-"

"Thanks." Still, after taking the plate, he only sat it to the side.

Frowning, Shae took a seat beside him, silent. Xavier had played this game for the majority of the day with the man, to no avail, but it only last a minute or so between the two of them. After a deep sigh, Locke seemed ready, finally, to expel.

"I just don't know why I thought," he whispered softly, "things would be any different. Now. If we came here. I-"

"So you really think she chose to stay behind? In Bosco?"

"No." He shook his head though, at his own words. "I mean, yeah, she might've. Well… I don't think the person that she is, that she's been, for the past few months, would do that, no. But… This is the exact type of shit she'd pull before."

"Before what?"

But Locke only glowered out into the night, replying simply, "If she's not back soon, I'm going to fucking Bosco. I can get through the border under normal means. There's nothing that they'd flag me for. Then I'll go seek her out."

"You don't even know where she is," Shae reminded him. "Bosco's pretty big. Not as big as Fiore, but it might as well be, in this case. And Astra's not going to tell you."

"It doesn't matter."

"Then how will you find her?"

"Because we're connected." When Shae was silent, no doubt thinking he was being ridiculous, he only insisted, "We are. We always have been. I can tell when she's near me. It's a magic thing. If you're around someone enough, you can sense their magic against someone else's. I know when my father's in the guildhall, even if it's full of other people, before even opening the doors. I can sense when my mother's going to knock on my front door. Because you can sense it. But Haven and I's goes further than that. We're completely in tune with one another. If I have to tour around the whole damn country, until I feel her, to get to her, then I will."

Shae was looking at him then, he could feel it, but didn't want to return her gaze. Instead, he only blushed some, knowing he was being a tad melodramatic.

"Some shitty shit happened to Haven," he explained. "Once. In Bosco. And I always told her I'd come for her, if she needed me, if she got caught up again. I can't just… I don't know, you know? If she decided to really stay behind or not. I wouldn't think she would, without me, but… If she gave Astra this necklace," he said as he held out a hand then, gripping the chain between two fingers and allowing the gem to tumble down and hang between them, "to give to me? Then fuck, she might really just have decided to stay. She's done it before. So what am I supposed to do, huh? Either I go there and help her, if she needs it, or I fuck it all up, because she doesn't need me. Why does she always fucking do this shit to me? She constantly gives me impossible decisions. Or puts me in the place to make them."

"Astra told us, after you left," Shae offered then, "that Haven's just trying to restart things. For us. But among the captives now. And it's not a bad idea. I mean, I probably could have done just as well a job, even if I'm not familiar with the manor, but-"

"Hey, I guess I never really said anything on that." He dropped his hand then, still clutching the necklace, as he looked down at Shae. "I'm, uh, sorry that Haven kinda took your spot. And then was shitty about it, on top of that. She's, uh, special, yeah?"

"To you," Shae remarked and he couldn't help it. He grinned.

"I know you don't like her," he said. As the woman tensed thoguh, he said, "Don't worry; most people don't. She's kinda, well… She's spent a lot of time being a really shitty person and is trying to fix that, but-"

"It's not even that. At all." Looking him in the eyes, she said, "I just get a…bad feeling. When I'm around her. The air feels thin and it's kind of choking. I know that you're girlfriend or whatever, but- It's not funny. I'm being serious. I-"

"No, it's not..." He couldn't help it, Locke couldn't, as he snickered fully then. "Haven doesn't have a lacrima, like her father does. It's how Master Laxus keeps electricity stored in his body for use. So he taught her to filter out the static that's naturally in the air, at all times. To keep a steady stream going in and out, so she can use her magic at any time. It makes the air feel different, when she's around, yeah. I mean, you'll probably end up hating her too, most people do, but at least give her a chance to bring you to that point."

Shae still seemed uncertain, but she accepted his reasoning, all the same, shrugging her shoulders a bit as she said, "I, uh, loved a girl too. Once. Back home. She knew magic too. Not a lot of people do, there, but she could take stone or a boulder, even, and just hold out her hand and it would start to crack and form things. She'd make little statues and things, for her mother's garden. I'd help her paint them. We made, like, this whole lore about it. She crafted these big stones into these ornate looking gods, with headgear and funny markings, and we painted them and put them up around the garden and… I guess that sounds lame. You guys were mages, so-"

"It's not lame." He forced a smile for her. "It sounds like a cool power."

"It was." She smiled as well, truly, ducking her head a bit as she said, "Not a lot of people knew magic, where we were from. Her father taught it to her."

"Where are you from?"

"Joya," she answered easily. "It's a lot different there. In my country. Magic's not as abundant and even lacrimas are in high demand."

"How'd you end up in Fiore?" he asked and, it was with her own sigh that she began.

"Bosco's just down river from us," she answered softly. "My mother and I were on the coast, together, a few years ago, when it was attacked by slaver boats from Bosco. They rounded everyone up. We couldn't fight them. Who would? The city patrol? They'd never been this brazen before, no one expect this. It was...awful. I…"

"You don't have to-"

"I want," she assured him, "to tell you. So you understand. I know that you're just here because...I dunno. Your girlfriend wants to be here, to help, or your master told you to do it, but this… This all means something. To the rest of us. Something serious. We all have connections to that fucked kingdom. Bosco. Other Kingdoms know they do things like this and they facilitate it, rather than provide aid. Assistance. Everyone's so afraid of war among the kingdoms, but when you've seen what they do there, when you've lived through if… I understand the value put on your own citizens lives and the fear in expending them, but what about the lives of those who are trapped there? Destroyed there? Branded like cattle. The second you are, you mean nothing, you know that? Who thinks of us? Other than us?"

This hung between them for a second or two and even the crickets and cicades seemed to surrender their songs to the moment, while Locke's mouth only felt dry as he told the woman, "I'm sorry. I never… We don't really grow up thinking about it and you're right, we should, but-"

"Don't be sorry, Locke." She held out her arm then, before him, tracing a finger in a specific design over her brown skin. "It was right here that it laid. The mark that signifies how little you matter. I thought about cutting off my arm, once I escaped the place I was held. That I'd either bleed out and die, or survive and be allowed over the boarder, since they couldn't prove it, right? That I'd ever even had an arm? I just wanted to get away. So badly. So don't be sorry. I wouldn't think of that place either. If I didn't have to. If I didn't know I had to. But now you know, just like me. It's what you do now that matters, right?'

He blinked a few times, down at the water before them, before nodding. Then, softly, he asked, "What happened to your mother?"

"I dunno." Looking away, she said, "We were all separated. All of us. When we were first captured. I...I like to think that she escaped too. Eventually. Not that she found a group, like this one, but that she escaped back home and she's there and… But I keep searching. Bosco. Every single time I'm able to get into the country. For her. I can't spend too much time there, I'm always afraid I'll run into the man who owned me, before, and that he might recognize me or… But if she's still there, suffering… I went back home, to Joya once, to see everyone and they know to send word to me, to come find me, if she ever returns to them, but…"

"Maybe she is in a group," Locke suggested as Shae sniffled down at the ground. "Out there. Just like this one. In a different Kingdom. And she's trying to find you."

"Maybe," she whispered back, disbelieving. "Sometimes I feel like a bad daughter. For not continuing to search for her. Every single day. Risk capture and just-"

"Your mother wouldn't want that." Locke sighed. "I don't know her and I don't really know you that well, I guess, but… I just know she wouldn't. And you know that too, don't you?"

But Shae was shoving up then, remarking down to him, "Eat your food, Locke. And get some rest; you're on last watch tonight."

He wasn't hungry though and, as she disappeared back into the forest, he only sighed one last time, now down at the necklace he held in his hand. The moon peeked back around from the clouds overheard and, when he held it just right, it caught the light the rock provided, the same way Haven's eyes did, when she was excited about something.

And he liked to think she was that way, wherever she was, in that moment. Winning people over to her side, laying the ground work. There was a bigger picture, after all. Than their relationship. And while this felt like a step towards the old version of herself Haven was so intent with showing him she no longer was, he felt like he could concede the necessity of time. While it felt unlimited for them, there were many who this was no the case and, to think that Haven should delay her efforts for his benefit did feel rather selfish.

They'd delayed their assistance and gaze towards suffering for long enough. If Haven was doing something combat it…

But she wasn't.

At all.

That first night, she didn't even know that Astra left. She was part of the silence now, doing as told and that was fine, maybe, because Astra was clearly schmoozing the Ewings and that was fine. That was whatever.

She'd thought that she'd come and get her though. When night settled over the manor and the others trapped in their silence, save a few, were resigning back to their bunk house on the property. But Astra had requested that she stay with her, so Haven, having had no one really give her any directive, resisted some, when one of the other women grabbed her arm and started to lead her out to the back of the property.

"No," Haven insisted, the first words she'd spoken in hours and, ugh, it had been killing her. But she knew she had to play along, at first, to at least somewhat gain the trusts of the others. Had Astra not instructed her to stick close before, she might even have followed without complaint, but… "I'm supposed to stay with-"

"Your old master has left. You've been sold." The other woman's voice soft, as to not be overheard. "Come. We'll show you to the-"

"Sold? N-No. What?" Jerking away from her, Haven shook her head. "I can't be...sold. I was never owned. I… Fuck."

And she didn't understand. Not yet. But when she tired to protest and run back through the kitchen, to go find Astra, to get these sorted out, one of the other women, a bigger one, came to grab her arm tightly, forcefully and glare at her with dark eyes.

If Haven acted out, after all, there was a good chance they could all be punished for that and, clearly, no one wanted that to happen. Neither did she. Not really. But she was panicking then, a bit, and as she was shoved out the back entrance, one of the men, baring the same marking they did, came over to grab her and force her into the barracks. She was babbling now, trying to insist to them that this was a mistake, and when he grabbed her, she'd tried to shock him, to shock them all, but it died off in her palm and fuck.

Fuck.

She'd been tricked.

She was shoved into the barracks, tripping some in her struggles over the warped wooden planks that the floor consisted of. Shoving up, she was welcomed to the sight of bunk beds, stacked three high, rows of them, crammed all together, filling the makeshift building. There was one window, but the glass had been broken out. It usually was tapped over, the entire thing, to conserve heat, but summer was upon them then and, as Haven stared at it, the broken pane was something of a blessing, as it allowed a stiff breeze to waft into the otherwise sweltering tinderbox.

It made the safe-house look like a paradise.

She'd never been here before. No. She knew what it was, who it housed, but her short time on the Ewing property had been spent elsewhere.

"It's alright. Take a breath."

One of the women of the man that rose, when she was thrown in, rushed from where she'd lain on a mattress, over to Haven. Sitting up on her knees, the blonde was looking with wide eyes at her surroundings, not properly breathing, but quickly, her gaze was filled with the sweet smile of another.

The woman was her mother's age, at least, her face dirty and filled with lines and wrinkles, aging her greatly. Still, when she smiled at her, Haven at least took in a breath that wasn't immediately expelled raggedly.

"It's always hard," the woman insisted in a soft tone as other women entered, filling the barracks up, "the first time. Is it? Your first time? Or-"

"I'm not...one of you," Haven tried to explain, but none of her thoughts made much sense because, fuck, _fuck,_ why would Astra do this to her?

"But you are," the woman insisted and one of her hands came up to run a finger across black tattoo that stained her arm. "This is hardly the worst place to be. The manor and property are so large, if you keep your head down-"

"Look at her, Kira." Another woman, who seemed unconcerned with Haven, was climbing up to the top of one of the bunks nearby. "You know as well as I why she was brought her. I saw who brought her in. Another from one of the top families. Don't fill her head with lies."

"I don't belong here," Haven continued to insist though, to the woman before her. Because, though she'd managed to escape before, once, she'd seen what her fate would be, had she stuck around. "I'm from Fiore."

"Yeah?" came a call from another woman in the barracks, but the voice felt disembodied as Haven's eyes only searched the ones of the woman directly before her. "Welcome to the club."

"I'm from Fairy Tail." And she tugged down her shirt a bit, Haven did, revealing the insignia. It wasn't there, before, to save her, but now, surely… "They'll come for me. My father-"

But the woman only reached up to gently shove Haven's hand up, hiding the marking. Patting her hand, she told her, "Rest. The nights feel so short here."

Haven didn't want to though. She couldn't. Her chest felt heavy and she wanted to run, she really did, but she knew without her magic that she'd only be captured. Easily. So, when the other woman finally stood, Haven didn't join her. Only crawled across the floor, to the tight corner of the barracks, where she buried her head in her knees and just tried to breath.

It was difficult.

None of this made any sense. Not really.

Astra had brought her here on purpose. To what? To sell her? Why? Why her?

Richard.

Richard had told her that she had connections with Ewing. But so what? She hadn't gone into any details to him. And she was telling the truth, when she told Astra the man probably wouldn't remember her. She was of no value to him. At all. They interacted for a very short period of time, many years ago.

And Astra seemed to be pleased, anyways, when Haven told her that he wouldn't know her. Wouldn't recognize her. Was that just part of the ruse? And what was the ruse anyways? She couldn't return back to the safe-house alone. No way. Locke wouldn't stand for that. Even if she made up some sort of bullshit reason, he'd still dig deeper. If he didn't, her family would.

While Fiore seemed content with ignoring the barbaric nature of Bosco, they couldn't ignore the kidnapping of a guild master's daughter. Fine, Laxus wasn't the master anymore, but he might as well be. He was a top mage, at least.

His name meant nothing in the lands, but merged between the two kingdoms, it had to still hold something of power. And if he knew he was here, against her will, missing or captured…

So what was the ploy?

The whole time?

Astra had spent years at this, hoping to free the slaves and right the wrongs of her kingdom, so why sell Haven? Had she reverted? That felt a bit ridiculous. She couldn't have made that much, off the exchange. So what? Would she not go back to the safe house? At all? Just restart her life in Bosco, or elsewhere, from the Cicles she had made?

If she didn't return to the safe house at all though, Locke would still come for Haven. Of course he would. He'd threatened as much. A week. She imagined he'd actually give it a few days, but still, she knew he'd come for her. Astra had to know that as well.

Did she just not care? Or was this part of it? She knew Haven just had to survive long enough for the others to come for her and that, in the end, she'd find herself the victor, having sold something that couldn't be owned, and making off with the money from it.

The whole thing felt rather convoluted. Far too much effort for far too little reward.

So what then?

Huh?

Why had Astra brought her all the way out here just to betray her?

Haven didn't realize she'd fallen asleep until she was rather harshly shaken awake.

Her neck hurt, as she blinked in her dreary surroundings, the stench of the place quickly giving her a sobering reminder of just where she'd landed herself. Trapped.

"Kitchen wakes early," a woman, around her age, who'd been the one to shove her awake. "It's your assignment for now."

She felt gross and groggy, Haven did, and still wasn't rightly resound to her surroundings, but what the woman told her the night before made something of sense. Until she figured out exactly what was going on, it was best to lay low.

Regardless of Ewing's plans for her.

There seemed to be something of a hierarchy, among those slaved, with the men mostly working outside of the property, on the land, while the women were either kept inside or, a select few, seemed to be person maids to the daughters and mother. Haven knew though, of a far worse place in the manor and tried to put it out of her head, think about other things, as she scrubbed at the floors and mostly attempted to fade into the background.

It was tiring. Not that Haven would admit this, aloud, of course, as she was certain her duties for the day, done only once, for the first time, hardly held weight against the others amassed. But for all the physical training she'd put in, after her death, nothing quite reached this level. It was monotonous, an understanding that there was no quite way out of it, no ending. She didn't have anything to look forward to. Only back. And even then, she imagined when you were here long enough, that faded as well.

Then what?

The day seemed to crawl by. After having not slept well for the past few, Haven was craving somewhere to lay her head and, while the women were fed halfway through the day, sitting in the kitchen, she realized just how hungry she was as well. Her panic before had overridden these desires, but she was so fucking hungry now.

When she lived away from Fairy Tail, out on the streets, around her seventeenth birthday, she learned hunger. Well. It wouldn't be until, after Bosco, when she fell in with the treasure hunters that she started earning some at least somewhat stable income. Eating well again. But those days from before still hung with her and she imagined, as her meager portion did little other than stop the pangs, that if this wasn't all over soon…

But surely it would be.

It had to be.

She was angry. That day. The first one. She spent it doing as directed, but nothing more, and she seethed in the silence they were all thrust into, not watching much of anything, caring for anybody.

That fucking bitch.

Fucking bitch.

Astra had led her here, left her here, and for what? Huh? Some fucking Cicles? She never should have trusted her. She wouldn't have trusted her, if it weren't for stupid Erza, sending her here in the first place. Or Locke, insisting that they go, rather than just fucking off, that they stay in Fairy Tail. Because he wanted to be in Fairy Tail. What the fuck did Locke know? Nothing.

Then she was mad at herself for thinking that way, because Locke never did anything wrong to her, at all, and Erza was tying to find a way to make amends, be thoughtful towards her hesitance to stay, but enabling her to do so, to be around her family again.

And her family would come, because of course they would, her father and mother and uncles and aunts and her sister, even, could hold her own here, now. Maybe. But Locke would certainly be there, soon, to help her out. To figure this all out.

Then they'd find Astra and bash her skull in.

Because now she was upset at the woman all over again.

This cycle played itself out many times through the course of the day and, by the time it was over, Haven didn't really give a fuck about much else. She merely fell into the first free bunk she found, not really giving a shit who it belonged to. It reeked, like everything that wasn't a part of the manor did, but that didn't matter, none of it mattered, because her eyes were heavy and she was exhausted and it would be better, surely, when she awoke.

But it wasn't.

Days had no meaning and she had better learn to adhere by that rule.

The second felt much like the first, the third no better, but it was by the fourth that she recalled something.

Astra had given her papers, to hide away, and disperse. Why? Again, this felt far too elaborate just to be a ruse.

She had papers prepared for a reason. What was it?

Though the thought gnawed away at her brain, Haven wasn't easily able to find out. Astra had instructed her to hide the papers away and, though she had, it was near the guest chambers and, seeing as she mostly worked in the kitchen on the opposite side of the manor, felt rather inaccessible.

But she only had to agonize for a day and a half.

One afternoon as she was busy helping peel potatoes for dinner, she and one other woman she was working with were instructed to go scrub the main hall floor. There had been a spill of some sort and Lady Ewing wanted it thoroughly cleaned.

The other woman she was with, Neeve, was a slight woman with a tan complexion, her dark hair pulled back into a tight bun. She'd been on kitchen duty for the duration of Haven's time there, but like most everyone else, said very little. Still, she seemed to know what to do at the suggestion, instructing Haven in that silent nature they all seemed to adopt with ease on where to get the specific buckets and cloths for this.

The main hallway spanned the width of the building, stretching into a deep hallway on both sides. At its center, where the main foyer lied, there was the bottom of the staircase, grand with a bit of a curve to it, leading up to the rooms.

Upstairs was where Haven needed to get and she wasn't quite sure how she could pull it off.

There was so much she'd do, usually, in such a situation, if she was just slightly more certain of the outcome. The one thing that she did know with absolute certainty was that if she were to be discovered out of place or snooping around, her punishment wouldn't just be against her. No. If someone stepped out of line, should they catch any of the manor's inhabitants in a bad mood, there stood a chance that they would take it out on the whole group of them.

Haven had experienced this on the third day. Not personally. Distanced. One of the men from outside had been caught dozing off and they were all whipped for it, the men outdoors. Inside, the women were informed of this by one of the actual, paid workers, their overseer of sorts. He threatened the same happening to them, should they be found doing the same, and Haven thought, when her family showed up, she'd have her father pummel him in particular.

Thoughts such as these got her through the day, honestly. Imagining it. Her father electrocuting some, her mother's claws ripping to shred others. Mostly though, she thought about what she would do, to Ewing, before this was all over.

She saw him once, just in passing, a glance in the right way at the right time. He passed by the kitchen entrance way, once, when she'd first set to work, but she hadn't seen him since. Still, the idea enacting her revenge, delivering an electric fist right into his pompous jaw, the bones cracking from the force of her own, and it would just feel so cathartic. So freeing.

So…

She had to stare down at her tattoo, her marking, as she scrubbed at the floors. It was always right there. Mocking her. They weren't quite kept in rags, not on the Ewing manor at least, but just basic, bland clothing. It itched, the shirt did. And Haven still wore her same bra she'd came in, now filthy and uncomfortable. She was thankful now, for her necklace having been taken from her. Even if Astra had fucked off with it, at least it wouldn't end up in the hands of one of the Ewings.

Or worse; considering it's low value, probably just tossed.

But it meant a lot to her and, may times throughout the day, she'd raise her hand up, to tug at it, but alas, it was no longer there. Nothing was. Except for the hideous marking that marred her arm, her catching glimpses of it, randomly, surprised each time at its presence. A reminder, honestly. Truly.

She'd have fucked out of here, by now, if she were able to. With her magic. But she'd let Astra trick her and now...now…

Now, she had to sneak up the stairs. Somehow. Risk getting caught. Getting the others, completely innocent people, in trouble. Beaten. For a shot in the dark. What if the papers were gone? Found and gone? What if Astra had only been teasing her, knowing she was planning on doing this and they were just filled with nonsense? What if they were exactly what she thought they were and, still, it changed nothing?

What then?

Haven felt out of sorts. Like she was someone else. Like she'd been someone else, for too long now, and that she just had to get over it. Her hesitations. The old her, the one that had been entombed and reborn, that would have been fighting back, against all of this, regardless of the outcomes, no matter who they were turned against or towards. The only thing she knew back then was struggle. If a situation got tough, you fought against it, lashed out, broke down as many walls as possible, tore through the rows, until the goal was in sight.

But the new her knew, better than her younger self, the cost of such a thing. Somethings can't be fought outright. Can't be faced head on. Or else you ended up like she had, dead and cast away.

There had to be other ways.

And yet, as she stared up the long staircase, she realized that she wasn't wholly a new person. Not really. The older her, the younger version, it was still there, beneath the surface. And it still laced many of her decisions. She hadn't truly locked part of herself away. It intermingled with all her other decisions. Shading and guiding them.

There was no reward without wager risk.

When Neeve disappeared down one end of the darkened hall, scrubbing diligently, Haven was quick to push her luck. It late afternoon, which meant the daughters were all down in the garden and, more than likely, their mother was as well. Most of the hired help didn't roam around the upstairs if it was otherwise empty. The only other person to worry about was Ewing himself, but from all she could tell, he hadn't been around since she caught a glimpse of him that day.

The upstairs should be mostly clear.

Mostly, however, was the problem.

It was dark upstairs, only the hall lights on, and Haven moved quickly, knowing there was no playing it off if she were caught. She needed to be fast and efficient.

The guest chamber was down another hallway that branched off, completely unlit. Right outside the chamber, however, was a table of sorts, atop which a tiny sculpture set, a bust of some long dead man. When Haven had opened the drawer the first time, she noted its emptiness and high amounts of dust, taking it to meant that it was rarely used. On a whim, she'd shoved the papers in there, facing downwards, hoping they'd never be found.

Heart in her chest, thumping wildly, she flung open the drawer and was relieved to find the small stack of papers were still where she'd set them. Snatching them up, she flipped them over, knowing it wasn't safe to stay for long, but she just needed to know, to see what she had missed, to understand, to-

Someone was coming.

Haven could hear fast footsteps beating against the floorboards, but as she was moving to duck into the nearby guest bedroom, someone turned the hallway corner and it was Neeve, the woman she was working with, who came rushing right over to her.

"I was just-" Haven tried, holding the papers to her chest, but those weren't the concern of the other woman. When she reached for the blonde's arm, Haven tried to move away, but Neeve was insistent.

"You can never," she insisted, tugging on her arm, attempting to drag her away, "be alone. You must stay together."

"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry. I was just-"

"You must," she insisted and her accent was so thick, Haven had to listen closely to understand, "stay together."

They weren't missed, thankfully, downstairs and the second they made it back there, Neeve only got back to work. With a moment to consider the consequences, Haven now saw the irresponsibility in having the papers out in the open and did the best she could, crumbling and folding them, to fit into her pockets or somewhere on her person.

It was an uncomfortable few hours.

When they ended, she took off for the bunk house, but didn't go inside. Rather, she walked around it, to the back, where she sat down with her back pressing against the wooden siding and slipped one of the papers from her pocket.

It wasn't much.

Just a single page, a copy of a handwritten decree in tiny, feminine print. Astra's, Haven imagined. It was four, concise paragraphs, the first detailing the point of the, so far, nameless group, intent on making direct change in the kingdom. The second described the groups motives in this, hoping to be spread among those most oppressed, who could help lead in the change. The third told vaguely of balancing your fear over this matter and recognizing direct change is the only way. The fourth, final paragraph was just a few lines, ending in a communication lacrima address.

Haven read it over and over again, as if trying to find a code, some sort of hint or explanation for why Astra had left her there. Ditched her. _Sold her_.

But there was nothing. She pulled out all the papers, all with the exact same copied writing on them, and there was no hint no little message scribbled on the back of one. Astra hadn't left her with a mystery; she'd just left.

Leaving behind nothing.

With a slight sigh, disappointment began to pool in her stomach and Locke would still be coming for her. Soon. Very soon. She knew this. So she had nothing to be afraid of. At all. With his help, she'd probably not even need her family. The two of them? What couldn't they do?

Again, her hand came up to her neck, but there was nothing there to grab. When she slammed her arm down, dejected, her elbow smashed against the wooden paneling that lined the base of the barracks and fuck, it hurt, but more importantly, the board she hit caved in, just a bit.

She had so few wins the past few days. If not weeks. But as she rubbed her sore elbow, something seemed to click in her mind and, though there were others milling around, no one seemed to be paying her much attention. She was old news now.

Turning slightly, Haven was able to pull out the board she'd dislodged, finding a hollow space between it and the proper foundation the barracks sat upon. Quickly, she shoved all, but one of the papers into the hold, positioning the board back to it's proper position.

When Haven rose, it was with the realization that she'd stayed out for too long. The bunks were all filled up, when she made it inside. Which was fine, honestly. There wasn't much room to do so, in the slight cots, but many women did double up,, when it was necessary.

As Haven's blue eyes traced over who she thought might be willing to allow this and, eventually, they landed on Neeve, her partner from that afternoon, who seemed to already be snoozing. Slipping in beside her, Haven was cautious about waking her, but this didn't seem to be a problem. The woman didn't move. Not in the slightest.

It was hard though, for Haven to find the same sleep. The same peace. She just kept thinking about the note and, at one point, even pulled it out to glance over with the dim light of the few lamps that hung on the walls.

She had to be missing something.

Short of Astra panicking, at the last moment, and just throwing her to the wolves, Havne couldn't imagine her putting all this work, all this effort, into something with the intent of it not producing anything. So what was her game? What was her ploy?

It was written in a strange way. The entire flier. Not once did it mention directly slaves, masters, or anything of substance, really. No mention of the word revolt or any specific details in how that would take place. It only spoke of finding hope in one another and to spread the word of change among peers.

Haven imagined it was so, if discovered, it wouldn't be directly tied to anything in specific. Couldn't be definitively declared propaganda or revolutionary filth. Mostly, it just felt like an empty promise. No directive or true intent.

As her eyes grew tired though, she found herself focusing heavily on the last paragraph. The one with the lacrima address. It was the most puzzling.

She thought perhaps, Haven did, that it was the name of the business in Fiore that Astra had used, back near the safe-house, to make the copies. Some sort of business watermark of sorts, but that didn't seem right. The name listed beside the lacrima address was Lambent Waves and that didn't sound like any copy shop Haven knew.

And what was its purpose, anyways? If Astra was intending for her to spread this information among those being held captive, then what good would a lacrima address do them? None of them had access to a lacrima. And if they did, Haven doubted they'd ever use it for such a risk. There had to be a reason she'd put it there.

But why?

Was it for Haven? What benefit would it have for her? Huh? Astra had sold her; she had no more access to a communication lacrima than anyone else. Was she supposed to be attempting to get her hands on one? Was that it?

Was that the message?

And what was Lambent Waves anyways? It sounded familiar. Or, rather, it read familiar. As if she'd seen those words pretend somewhere, before. Recently. But she just couldn't place it.

Just as she was starting to drift off though, a sound made her sit up. A wailing, getting closer, and most everyone in the bunk house jumped when the door to it was thrown open. But it wasn't someone out to harm them, to punish them. No. It was one of them, in fact. A woman Haven didn't rightly know (she didn't work in the kitchen, at least), but recognized, anyways. Clothes disheveled and torn, her eyes were filled with tears and her face was swollen, heavily, on one side.

When she stumbled in, some of the women rushed to grab her, pulling her further inside, while another only took a glance out the door before slamming it back shut. She was sobbing now, the woman was, and some shied back, but those who'd come to her originally only helped her over to one of the bunks, shushing her softly.

"Never be alone."

Haven felt a cold shiver run through her, as she turned away from the sight before her and instead to the woman in the bed beside her. Neeve did shy away or run to help. Just sat up some, at the commotion, and watched.

"You must," she insisted to Haven," stay together."

As tired as she was, the blonde found that night it was rather difficult to fall asleep.

No one spoke on the incident, the next morning. There didn't seem to be a need. They all got up, when they were supposed to, and did as they were told. Even the woman who'd come in crying so heavily. There were a few extra glances and some sighs, but their silence was upheld.

What other option was there?

None, it felt like, and maybe Haven would have agreed, the day before, but now she was distracted. Had something to think about. Mull over. Something that didn't lead directly into anger and self-pity. The fliers meant something. That last paragraph, Lambent Waves, meant something. She was just...tired and hungry and struggling to put it all together.

That's all.

She wanted Locke then.

Not for all the other reasons she wanted him, but because he'd be able to figure it out. Or Navi. Marin wasn't too dumb. Someone other than her, who was used to deep considerations and thoughts, should be there in that moment. Thinking these things over. Not her. This wasn't her place.

Or at least it hadn't been, maybe. In years past. But now…

Haven took a sharp intake of breath, when she nicked her finger, slicing onions. It was hardly the worse pain in the world, but it was sudden and her knee-jerk reaction was to jump back, from the counter, growling some while squeezing her fist closed.

She couldn't have timed this more poorly. One of the henchmen, who seemed to have some dominion over them, was stalking through the kitchen then and, at her motions, started to make his way over, a dark look in his eyes, but someone got to Haven first.

It was Neeve, dropping what she was doing to come grab Haven by the elbow and quickly walk her over to the tiny alcove, where a shelf of spices hung. While Haven tried to fix her face, attempting to get pass the discomfort slicing her thumb has caused her, Neeve produced a rag from where it hung from her back pocket.

When she held it out to the blonde, Haven only moved to snatch it, holding it against the gash. The pain felt moot now, but when Haven glanced out of the alcove, she saw the man still lingering around as the other few women stationed around the kitchen pretended to be busy with their work.

She wanted to say something. To Neeve. But the woman merely shook her head when Haven opened her mouth and it was just as well. The man would be barking at them soon, if they didn't return, and the rag was probably filthy, not exactly the ideal thing to clot your wound with, but it seemed to be the best option at the moment.

In the bunk house that night, Haven found her eyes falling over most of the women. She'd never given a hard count before, but she did now, including in it the two she'd seen out behind it, both silent, but seated together, seemingly watching the sun disappear beyond the mountains.

Haven felt like she needed to start taking more responsibility. Initiative. While she was still certain of reinforcements, she also still at least somewhat reverent of her original decree; for true change to come, for Bosco to actually see the light, it would have to be those forced into the dark, silenced and dejected, that brought it there.

But…

She still was the only real wizard around, it seemed. One without her powers, fine, but what difference did that make? It wasn't her magic that made her who she was; it was so much more. She was a leader with or without it. Of course she was.

Had she been born some lowly civilian, no magical background, she'd still rise to power in some way. Lord her other strengths over others in some manner. And here, now, with people who'd already given up, accepted their fate, she was the one that still had some. That still could believe in it.

It was more than just finding the fliers.

Haven had freaked out, at first, when she realized that Astra stabbed her in the back, but that was done with now. She'd had a few days to adjust and, with the aid of having something to distract her mind, she now was going to get back to her core reason for coming. It was never to join Astra's dumb band of idiots; it was to help Bosco.

And though it might not seem like it, she felt like she was in one of the best positions to do so currently.

"I thought we weren't supposed to be alone?"

Neeve had seemed surprise, to find Haven join her outside. She was standing over the trough, the water inside of it no longer fresh. No. Everyone would be out there, for it, if it had. The men would make their way over soon, the ones who worked out in Ewing's fields. They'd bathe in the old water, splashing it over their bodies and at least trying to get the sweat and sweat to stop clinging to their sun dried flesh. Only then would they be allowed to dump the trough, only to fill it once more, nice and fresh. Then the women would come out, right before bed, to drink the fresh water and at least attempt the same, as the men, from before.

"Only a moment," Neeve remarked as she dropped the ladle back into the water, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, a slight blush gracing her tan skin. "I like it better. Before so many-"

"I understand," Haven assured her, looking down into the water, watching the wooden ladle sink down to the bottom of the metal tub. "I wanted to ask you something. Alone."

"Your thumb?" the other woman suggested, but Haven only shook her head.

"No, It's..." Haven was rarely at a loss for words, but somehow, during all of this, she'd never actually considered how she would do it. Broach the topic. With people who were suffering, had been suffering, and no doubt had their own opinions and thoughts on the situation, feelings and… "Before I came here, I was working with a group. Through my guild. Fairy Tail. Back in Fiore? It's aim is to free people. Free the, well, the..."

And it was hard. To say. The word. Slaves. It felt so demeaning and demoralizing. Gross, really, plainly, was what it felt like, to say it. Standing there then, Neeve felt so much more than the term. And Haven hardly even knew her.

"Here." And Haven moved then, to pull the flier out of her pocket. "Look at this. I know it doesn't make a lot of sense and that this is really weird, but we could do something like this. We could-"

Neeve turned then, at her words, rushing back into the bunk house. Haven was confused by this reaction and followed after her. But the other woman only crawled into a bunk beside another and, well, it's not like Haven expected to hit it right out of the park on the first person she approached or anything.

Well, she had, but decided to chalk it up to a learning experience and only went to find a place to sleep for herself.

The next morning, Haven thought to try speaking to Neeve again, as so far she'd seemed to be the only person to take a real interest in her, but the woman only stared blankly at her when she tried to speak to her, before they exited the barracks that mornings and she avoided her the rest of the day, making sure to never be paired off with the blonde.

Haven tried to put the other woman out of her mind, reconciling that there were plenty more to reach and she was certain, the way she always was, that her next attempt (which she was definitely chalking up as her first, really, when you thought about it, because the other time was just a practice run. She needed to get her feet about her. That was all.

But it didn't seem to be a good day for that as when the light just began to peek around the mountain pass, there was a bit of the commotion in the house. The Ewing daughters seemed to be hurrying about and Haven even spotted the lady of the house, hissing at some of the other women stationed around the house. She wanted the place spotless, she claimed, more than usual, and Haven was only catching a glimpse from the kitchen doorway, but something about the way Mrs. Ewing's face contorted almost appeared demonic.

Mr. Ewing was returning. Haven wasn't necessarily surprised to find out he'd been absent from the mansion, was at least somewhat disappointed in the fact she'd wasted this time by not accomplishing much of anything, it felt like.

It also served as a stark reminder of how much time seemed to be passing. She forced herself to stop thinking about after the first day, but oh, it wasn't slipping past her just how long it was taking for them to get to her. Her family. Or Locke. While she was sure she wasn't doomed here forever, she couldn't help but begin to feel antsy once more, a heavy bile climbing into her throat at the realization that, no, she hadn't been forgotten by Ewing; rather, he'd been away.

And now that he was back…

Now that he was back…

He was going to be accompanied by another. One of the other men from a top family. This meant that everything had to be in top shape. Which, along with extra leaning, for the silent members of the household, this included bathing, actual bathing (well, with soap, anyways), and dressing in considerably nicer clothing. For the women, this meant dresses.

Lady Ewing came out into the back of the property, where they were ordered to strip and bathe, out in the open, passing around bars of soap and using fresh water in the trough. Haven had grown up around bathhouses and hardly felt embarrassed by her body, but in this context? It was different. Even though every other woman there, naked and attempting to cover themselves, most of them, as if ashamed of their nudity in the bright light of day, was in the same boat as her, Haven found a shame she'd never rightly known before. One that was unfairly being trust upon her.

She was yelling and snapping at them as well, the lady of the house was. Clearly, her husband's imminent arrival was bothering her. Knowing the man in the limited capacity that she did, Haven couldn't say that she blamed her.

And it was stupid. Dumb. To be so bothered by something so minuscule, but fuck, when they had to change into those dresses, Haven hated it with an equal, burning passion as she always did. It felt childish and silly, especially when she had so much more hanging over her head, but she just couldn't help it.

But she was thankful anyways, as she struggled into the one thrown at her, as it gave her something to escape into. To hide herself, finally, from others.

It was as she was doing this though, straightening the dress while hoping to avoid that gaze of Ewing's wife, when someone took to standing near her. Another woman. She was trudging into a dress as well.

"I heard what you said last night. To the islander." The other woman, stout, short one with cruel eyes, was avoiding looking directly at Haven. Still, it was to her that she spoke as she pulled the dress over her body. "Free people. Us. Do you really have some sort of a plan?"

Haven was surprised by the forwardness of this encounter, but when she took a good look at the woman and thought, she did recall seeing her, she thought, one of the few other women standing outside the bunk house the previous night. Still, she was slightly hesitant, as she said, "Yeah. Kind of. I'd never more people involved though. And I'm still trying to, uh, get back in contact with my home base about it all, but-"

"I'm in." And she said it with such ease, the other, nameless woman did. "Whatever it is, I'm in."

"Great." Haven couldn't help it. She felt herself grin. It was a small one, but the feeling of victory, in such a place, felt almost overwhelming. Running a hand down her side, she started to say, "Let me just give you-" but the words died in her throat because she wasn't wearing those same, itchy pants she had since arriving.

No.

Those, at the moment, were being dunked in soapsud-filled barrels, across the yard, where they'd stripped down originally, as some of the already dressed women were washing them. This was under the direction of Lady Ewing as, no doubt after this guest departed, they'd be right back to wearing them. Haven's heart only sunk momentarily though as, realizing her pants would definitely be completely soaked, she knew the paper would be smudged and unreadable, should anyone untoward find it afterwards.

Still, this proved a problem in the current moment and, it was with a bit of a sigh, that Haven told the woman, "I have the fliers hidden. That detail it. If you meet me, tonight, behind the barracks-"

"I'll be there," the other woman assured her and then she was quickly dispersing, dressed and following the command to line up, for those who were, the pair's conversation already lost in the hustle and bustle of preparations.

Haven started to feel better about herself.

That was the problem. That was always the problem. It only took a little glimmer, the smallest sliver, for Haven to start to feel in control once more. As if she'd already won. But there was no control here. There was no winning. How could there be? She kept falling into these false sense of security, ideas that she understood what was going on, had a handle on the situation, that even if she didn't, she'd quickly regain it when her family arrived, but this wasn't Fiore.

This was Bosco.

And it didn't belong to the fairies.

Haven ribbed hi for it constantly, but her boyfriend's adage of everything always working out was kinda lived by her as well. No matter how bad things got, even to her lowest point, six feet under, she still rose above it. Just to get here. Right where she was now. Sure, she was back on a down, but someone was interested in joining up and the wheels were beginning to spin, she just knew it, on helping people.

On helping herself.

Work was busier, but still felt the same. Grueling and tiring. Avoiding the leering gazes of Ewing's henchmen, who seemed to have grown in number at his approach, and for some of the more unfortunate of the silent women, it meant putting up with the Ewing daughters and getting them all pampered and pressed for their mystery guest's arrival. From what Haven overheard, there was something of a fuss between the oldest two, as the man seemed to be on the market for a wife.

So they were all extra bitchy and Haven, for once, was glad to be stuck in the kitchen, prepping food and scrubbing pans.

She also heard some complaints, though slight and whispered, from her fellow workers. Dresses, as one woman put it simply, felt like far too easy...access, and the way the henchmen were openly leering at them now, Haven imagined it didn't rightly matter if they were alone or all together; the night wasn't going to end well for someone.

Ewing arrived around midday with his esteemed guest and things sorta calmed down. Or at least everyone who might hand out a beating or harsh rebuke was too busy to pay much attention to anyone not stepping outrageously out of line.

Dinner was served in the grand dining hall that night, to all of the household members and their guest. The obvious tension in the mansion had reached its peak and, instead of bubbling over, seemed to be evaporating back into the typical unease that hung over the property.

When she was scrubbing at the after dinner mess of dishes and serving trays, Haven could hardly contain her excitement for when she could get out to the bunk house, where she'd be able to share a flier with that woman. It was all consuming, the thought fo it. She was convinced that all she had to do was talk to one person about, get one person on her side, and then it'd be all over for Ewing and his cronies.

But then it happened.

One second she was scrubbing idly at a dish, trying hard to keep her eyes open, when she felt a presence behind her. And not one of the other women. No. Just as she was turning to address the person, a hand clamped down on her shoulder and it took everything inside of Haven not to slug whoever it was. Everything. She could feel the electricity surge inside herself and she had to bite the inside of her cheek, knowing it would only be worse for her, possibly destroy her hopeful plans, if she were to do something aggressive now.

She'd claimed she could handle it, being undercover. And though she was hardly that now, far more in line with one of the actual prisoners, she still had to keep herself in check.

"You," the man seemed to decide as the blonde turned her gaze up at him. It was one of the henchmen, as slight smirk on his lips. "Ewing and his esteemed colleague need someone to bring them up drinks and some snacks." Then he nodded, over to part of the kitchen counter where a tray sat, glasses, liquor, and a bowl of some sort of nuts placed atop it. "Take that to his personal study."

It felt like everything stood still. Like she was being presented with a choice. At the time, Haven thought the feeling deep in her gut was nothing more than nerves, over seeing Ewing again, something to be forced down, that she'd come to terms with before she even left Fiore. It was something different, an instinctual thing.

Her fate on the manor had felt rather sealed, the second she let Astra lead her there, but somehow, as she lifted the tray and headed to Ewing's study, this felt far more the defining moment. It could be coincidental, them choosing her. To bring the drinks. Pure chance.

But when she first arrived, the other women seemed so certain that she was there for a reason, that she'd been purchased by Ewing for a reason, and Haven believed in that. That everything that happened to her was for a reason. A purpose.

It just normally swung in the positive direction, when she said it.

She was chosen now. Picked. By Ewing, specifically, to bring in the whiskey, and she almost forgot to knock when she got to the door. Balancing the tray against her hip, she managed it though, getting a stiff and gruff grant of entry on the other side before taking in a breath and opening the door.

His office was as impressive as the rest of the house. Built in shelves housing rather old looking tomes. A desk of a glassy ebony, thick and hearty, atop which sat an assortment of things. The window behind it overlooked the front of the property and the mountain ranges surrounding it. There was the scent of cigars, two actually smoldering on an ashtray among the assorted things on the desk, their scent taking Haven aback when mixed with the alcohol.

It almost smelt liked home. The bar. Even her own damn house, sometimes.

Ewing looked as he always did, imposing and brooding as he stood before his desk. The man he was with though, who he'd been talking to only moments before, was walking about it seemed, eyes tracing the bookshelves and hardly glancing at Haven.

But there was another person with them. A woman. She looked about Haven's age, with dark hair and thick rimmed glasses that she adjusted as she looked over the other woman. It was foolish, of course, the way this put her at ease. Lulled her into a false sense of security. Just the sight of someone of a similar age, who looked at her, rather than through her, seemed to actually

He ignored her though, Ewing did, continuing on his conversation after only a glance, with the other man as the dark haired woman stood to the side, silent. Observing.

"Stay," was the only thing Ewing said to Haven as, after setting the tray down on the desk, she turned to do the opposite.

Haven froze at this, her back turned to the man, but he only continued on with his conversation, just as he was.

"I thank you anyway, Alwood," Ewing remarked to the other man, who only kept his eyes on the books. "For accompanying me back. I wish your visit could be longer-"

"I appreciate you putting us up for the night," Alwood assured him with a bit of a laugh. "It's always a treat, to visit your estate. To visit with your wife and, of course, your lovely daughters..."

The younger man trailed off while Ewing only looked then to the dark haired woman. To her, he questioned, "What time are the two of you expected to leave in the morning?"

"I hoped to get us in the carriage by sunrise," she remarked as she looked down then, at a little black planner she held in her arms. Flipping to a certain page, she remarked, "I have allotted enough time for us to-"

"In any event," Ewing cut her off with a sharp glance. "I believe it is time for you both to retire, Alwood. Early to rise and all."

"Yes," he agreed, drawing the word out though a hand did come up, to snag a book off the shelf. "I don't think you'll mind if I take this to bed, hm? Some light reading."

"Light, huh?" Ewing snorted with a shake of his head.

"All things are in the eye of the beholder," Alwood retorted, but then he was looking across the room to the dark haired woman. "You are right though. My assistant here doesn't like it too much, when I keep her up or out for too long. We'll retire to our rooms now. Best wishes, Ira."

He never looked at her once, this Alwood fellow didn't. But his assistant, after nodding at Ewing, did catch her gaze one last time, as she departed from the room with her employer.

Haven had only stood there, silent and with her back turned to Ewing, but even as the door shut and they were alone, he didn't speak to her. Just took to picking one of the cigars up, to take a puff, with snuffing the other out in the ashtray. Then, his attention turned to the liquor she'd brought in, twisting the top off the bottle and pouring a light amount into the stout glasses.

"Turn around," was finally his command and she wasn't biting her tongue any longer. But she wasn't exactly shaking in fear either.

No.

Haven was stuck in this strange state she hardly ever got to. Where she knew it was futile. To resist. To do anything. Other than what the person requesting something of her wanted. This was a rarity from the blonde, something she hardly ever found herself doing. She always barked back, even the new version of herself she'd been touting recently, but there was none of that here. There couldn't be.

And, again, if she ever wanted to actually help anyone, then she was going to have to be someone else. Act like someone else.

Plus...here, on the Ewing estate...she kind of felt like someone else.

She did as he asked, a beating in her chest, and she knew she could take him. She should have taken him, that first day she ever saw him, when he was abusing those men all those years ago. It would have saved her from all of this, at least.

There wasn't fear in Haven's belly, as she turned to face the man. There was resentment and anger, a deep desire to destroy him, but not fear. She had to pretend as if there were though. Give that same doe-like look her sister had given her, for all those years. Terrified. She wasn't quite sure she was pulling it off- Until he made a new request.

"Drink," was the single word uttered and, for a moment, she thought she was confused. That someone else was in the room. That he was speaking to. But as the man continued to fiddle over the tray, hiding it from her view, he ordered once more, "Come, take this drink."

But she didn't move. She felt frozen. She knew, of course, as most anyone in that situation who wasn't a completely naive moron exactly what would happen if she followed this order. There was no way she was doing it. No way. It was definitely laced with something.

But she was still trapped. At least somewhat. She wasn't supposed to be some awesome mage from Fiore, bent on taking the man down; she was supposed to just be a normal, unfortunate women caught up in his underhanded nightmare. Not to mention...with her magic sealed inside of her…

The man wasn't that old, honestly. Nowhere near frail. She might be able to take him, but all of his henchmen that were lingering around the property too? And then what? Before, she'd run off through the mountains, starving and freezing as she traveled through their peaks, fearful of what awaited her if she stopped and rested for too long. Eventually, she found the man that Evergreen had set her up with, after hiding her branding and asking directions, but it had been a risk and one that Haven wasn't so confident she could accomplish again.

Plus...when she ran before, it was after only witnessing very few of the horrors the manor contained. Now, after having lived them for a time, she couldn't abandon the women she, well, not exactly knew, but certain was growing to.

She'd come here to save them.

If she bailed and rescued herself, then what did that say about her? About her ability to ever do what she'd set out?

"You won't drink it then?" Ira snorted, down at the glasses, before lifting both his hands. Rubbing his right wrist with his left hand, he said, "It would be easier on you, but fine. Filth. You don't deserve it anyhow.. The lack of realization. You should feel it all. Remember it all. Did you think I forgot you?"

He turned to look at her as Haven took a step backwards, and it all felt like too much. Like she hadn't been ready. Like she should have listened to Locke, let Shae go in her place, not allowed herself to fall into all of this so fast, because she wasn't ready.

She wasn't ready.

Her death had been one of the most traumatic things she'd experienced, but it was hardly the only. She'd buried this, drank until she'd forgotten it. Fucked around until it didn't matter. Bosco was in her past and, when she'd look down at her arm, it wouldn't have the mark anymore, the burning, searing symbol of her time abroad.

She lied.

A lot, honestly, but to anyone who asked. Locke. Ravan. Her family, once they found out, in the interim between her resurrection and Locke's trials. She told them that while in Bosco, it hadn't been that bad. That she'd gotten captured, battled her way out, and that was it. That was all.

But it wasn't.

And she'd had to relive it, when her memories were parade before her. In limbo. The horrible, awful decision to go there. Every fucking second of what had happened to her while she was there.

It hadn't...gone that far. Too far. But Ewing had been close to…

And it wasn't that bad, she always told herself, for that reason. She hadn't been...raped, so it wasn't something that she should think about or feel poorly over and it was all just something that happened, in her distant past, and it was getting further away from her every single second, and if she just lied about it enough, about how it wasn't so bad, about how Bosco wasn't so bad, her time there wasn't the worst of her life, then eventually…

She'd believe it.

And maybe she had. Started to. Believe that those nights locked up in the mansion hadn't been the worst of her life. That it was okay. No, not okay, but… It didn't matter.

There were just so many other things to focus on, to give attention to.

It stayed with her though. Bosco did. Followed her. And it was difficult for someone raised to think they were meant to save others, people beneath them, who weren't able to help themselves, to reconcile what she'd seen. What she knew was going on.

A complex. Maybe. Good-intentioned, but poorly executed. Haven wanted to save people, the women, in particular, who weren't going to be able to reconcile with themselves that it had been close, but not all the way, and that it was okay, because they could just put it past them, they could just go back home, to Fiore, and pretend it didn't happen. They could drink and bum around, fuck around, and if you filled your mind enough, muddled it enough, with other memories, with other sights and excitement and maybe you could forget.

The way that you did, sometimes. Not for long. It was never for too long. But maybe, one day, as time faded away...you would. Completely.

But it couldn't for the ones still trapped there. On the property. In Bosco in general, honestly. Her life was a constant stream of failing upwards and while she did feel chosen, she did think she was blessed, to know that there were others who weren't as fortunate…

Of course she had to go back.

Of course she had to try and help.

But how could she? As she stood now, cowered, really, and noted the slight trace of a white tinted glow begin to fall from the tips of Ewing's right hand.

"That woman… Kolines' daughter… I don't know where she found you. Or where you've been hiding. What luck is it then? That she would be low on cicles and, thinking of a quick way to amass a high amount, brought me her little plaything. What coincidence. Fate, almost? Hn." He made a noise then, in the back of his throat. "Tell me then; what did you do with her?"

"What are you talking about?" Haven questioned, holding a hand up then, as if to caution him not to come closer. Knowing that he recognized her...that he knew who she was… But it seemed confused, as to her being there. Or at least hadn't guessed the situation properly. She thought this might work to her advantage. "Do with her?"

"Her," he repeated, annoyed now, voice tight. The intrigue he'd had in knowledge died off into overt disdain. "Kolines' daughter. Depraved. The youth. It corrupts. But it has brought you back to where you belong, so I suppose I cannot outright denounce it. Besides, we all have our weaknesses."

The hand rubbing at his wrist dropped the other suddenly and, when he jutted it out towards her, Haven reflexively tensed, expecting whatever he shot at her to be reflected by her force-field shield, but of course, this didn't occur. Her magic was sealed away.

But it didn't matter.

Rather than a blast or a magic circle appearing before the man's hands, the white dripping only seemed to increase, magical energy floating into the room.

Haven could admit she was a bit slow at times, when it came to understanding things that weren't blatant, but she doubted there was much she could have done, had she noted the man's intentions right off.

"What are you doing?" she asked, voice slow as she stumbled a bit, falling out of her tense, defensive stance, and she was fighting it. She fought everything. But his magic… "Some kind of...spell or-"

"Give into it," she suggested as, with his free hand, he picked up one of the glasses to take a sip. Dark eyes standing on the blonde as she swayed, once, twice, three time, before falling with little ceremony. "I warned you though, did I not? This could have gone much smoother for you."

She knew she was fucked now, if she closed her eyes, if she didn't force them back open, but there was just this intense, overpowering feeling that she just needed to sleep. To rest. Her poor schedule relating to that only aided the spell, she was sure.

As her eyes drooped close for the last time, Haven was certain, finally, that no one was coming for her.

Why would they?

You only got to march into hell so many times before the gate locked behind you.

**.**

The days felt long, every single one of them. More than before. Locke sat on the porch step every single day, watching the horizon, and now nothing could drag him away from it. He hadn't made a hard and fast rule for when he was going to go after Haven, but time seemed to be getting closer to him making his decision and, one day cloudy day, as a light shower passed over them, while he sat on the porch steps, still waiting, Astra chose to make a rare appearance and join him.

Locke stifled, just from the woman's presence, but when she sat beside him, he physically seemed to recoil. While he glared straight ahead then, Astra only sighed before resting her chin in her palms, looking out at the downpour with the man.

"You have to believe me, at least a little bit. Or else you wouldn't be here right now."

This, finally, got his dark gaze on her, but Astra only continued to stare out at the rainfall.

"It's the truth," she insisted. "Admit it. If you thought that I was lying, that your girlfriend had volunteered herself to stay behind, then you would be out there right now, looking for her. But you're not."

"You," he retorted with a frown, "don't know anything about me."

"Personally? No, of course not." She even shook her head. "But as a man? Yes, of course I do. I know a lot. You think that Haven needs you, don't you? You're wrong. She's just fine, out there on her own. She might want you, but she doesn't need you. And even if she does, she'll be better for it, coming out the other side without you. How could she not be?"

"We're stronger," he retorted, "together."

"Maybe. I doubt it," she assured him, "but maybe."

"I don't think you understand," he told her then, holding his head higher, "where I come from. Fairy Tail. If Haven doesn't come back and I go out there, but can't find her, or find out that you did something to her, then-"

"Why did you come here, Locke?" she questioned instead of respond to his threat. "Because your master told you to? Your girlfriend? Or because you actually know the history and pain and hurt of Bosco? Because that's why I'm here. That's why I do what I do. My goal is to change my country.

For the better. Where does your alliance lie? Your motives? If it's just to bag a woman, there are much easier methods."

"Fuck you."

"Fine." She stood up then, making a face down at him. "Don't talk to me. But you're not going to sit around all day, waiting on your girlfriend, on my property. Put your anxiety to good use. Richard has an idea for the old barn that might pique your interest."

He let her leave, not glancing after the woman as she disappeared back into the house. And he didn't follow her directions. Not in the moment, at least. It wouldn't be until the next morning that, as Richard bounded down the porch steps passed him that morning, Locke got to his own feet and followed after him.

"Na-ah, loverboy," Richard warned as they walked across the desolate property until they got to the haggard old barn. "Don't bring any of that sadness to me, eh? Ain't got no room for it."

"Astra told me you needed my help," he replied as they looked over it. The barn. Faded, old red paint with white accents, chipped and rotting in places. The barn doors had fallen off their sliders and, from the crooked view they got into the interior presented the same decay. To Richard, Locke said, "I'm just trying to help."

"Speakin' to Astra, huh?" Richard was moving then, to fully pull the barn doors off their hinges as Locke spied the tool belt wrapped around the older man's waist. "You already got you a woman. Stay away from mine."

"I wasn't- You and Astra are-"

"Nope." He was being rather cavalier, with the door, tugging at it, hoping to break it fully from its old sliding mechanism. "She ain't, uh, into the Dick, unfortunately. Not just me, of course. But in general."

"Then what?" Locke stood back, unsure of how to assist in the moment, though he did watch with a careful eye, certain, somehow, that this was going to injure the other man in some way. "How is she your...woman?"

"Women who reject all men? Outright?" He snorted, Richard did. "Just ain't found the right man. Astra's warmin' up to the idea. Takes some time with some women. That's all."

"That's a really shit world view," Locke told him bluntly, still only observing. "And really not true."

"Is that what happens when you get in a serious relationship these days, huh?" Richard was tugging harder at the door, hoping his brute strength would free it. It was with a bit of an exasperated gasp that he questioned, "You turn into a little puss- Ah! Shit."

Locke hid his grin into his palm at the sight of Richard doubled over, holding his own face. One of the roller attached to the top of the door had finally flown off, bouncing right off his face and into the grass at their feet. It smacked him right between the eyes, hard enough to draw an immediate welt.

"I'd help you out," he remarked with a bit of a shrug. "But I'm such a-"

"Don't need your help no how." He rubbed at his welt, Richard did, before lifting his head and trying hard to grin and bear it. His smile, however, just didn't seem to reach his eyes. "Already shaken off."

The immediate issues that had to be addressed with the bar, as far as salvaging wood and beams, to do patch jobs, as well as clearing it out of junk that seemed to have been stored in there, which seemed to preoccupy Locke for a few more days. Xavier helped out in this process and even Shae came around a few times, mostly to just roll her eyes at whatever comments Richard made.

Locke found himself thankful for the distraction. And for a place to escape Astra. Once the place was cleaned up a bit, he found himself actually sleeping out there, in his sleeping bag, to escape the tension in the house. There was some fear of mice and such, which they seemed to be disturbing with their construction, but somehow it was more peaceful.

Haven was adjusting to a new sleeping arrangement as well. A life arrangement, honestly.

It was in confusion that she first awoke, a pounding head and sore body doing little to aid in this. Her recollections were fuzzy and, as her eyes adjusted to the darkness that surrounded her, Haven was having a hard time deciphering where she was, even.

When she tried to move her hand to her head, the motion wasn't languid, like she expected, but rather fully restricted. This seemed to sober her quickly as, tugging at both arms then, she found them bound, chained to the wall, slight raised above her.

She was chained up. Beneath the manor.

This realization came with thrashing and attempts to shoot off blasts of electricity, energy, anything, but it died off inside of her and she couldn't breath properly, not because of her panicking, but rather because of her positioning. The way she was hanging made it difficult to breath and, as her chest ached, she had to push up, as best as she could, on the tips of her feet, her shoes, trying to make herself as tall as possible, to alleviate her pains the best she could.

As Haven scrambled to understand her situation though, she heard something else. In the darkened area with her. A slight scurry and a soft cry. A man's. Though this made her institutionally attempt to recoil at first, her muddled mind eventually made a connection it hadn't before.

She was in the modified basement, located directly beneath the house. She'd been here once. Before. Though she'd claimed to Richard that she'd worked the mansion before, for Ewing, this wasn't entirely correct. After capturing her, all those years ago, the henchmen threw her down into the basement, one sneering at her, to wait until Ira arrived, but the other bounded down the steps after her and she'd never...felt that before.

She'd been on jobs since she was a little kid, but all the men, the older adults, that wished to do her harm were almost certainly more concerned with physically silencing or harming her. Not…

It was definitely something to be cautious about. Maybe. Her father seemed to warn her about a lot of things, when she was young and started heading out on her own or with equally as naive children. Haven grew up in a bar with drunks and the not so savory types that the guild life style attracted. So yes, fine, she did know that sometimes…

It was wrong. To think. But… Haven just always thought that it was...weak women that got assaulted. In that way. Never someone like her. Or her mother. Or any of the women she knew from the guildhall. It was something someone like...Marin or Navi, maybe, would have to worry about, because they weren't as savvy or strong as she was, and Haven could hang out, late into the night, in the wee hours of the morning, in towns she didn't know. Associate with people she wasn't familiar with. All at seventeen. Because she was not the type of woman that had to worry about these things.

She was arrogant, when she was younger. Ignorant, maybe is a better way of putting it. For someone that traveled around the Kingdom, bearing witness to the horrors suffered by others, it just never occurred to Haven that she could find herself in any sort of similar situation.

It didn't even occur to her as she was transported in the back of that carriage, calling out for her father. The worst thing she could possibly imagine happening to her was that she'd be forced to work whatever product of which Ewing was in business. That alone was frightening.

But this…

They'd left her bound, when they'd tossed her down the basement steps, and as the man came rushing down after her, Haven struggled to shove up, questioning him, her throat raw from calling out for help the past few hours on the ride to the manor, but she knew. Somehow. It was a gut feeling, a sinking one, that caused tears to spring back into her eyes as she realized she was trapped and useless, without her magic, and when he reached for her…

But the other guy was yelling at him. Something about how Ewing had told them to leave her alone, remember? And he didn't want to get his ass kicked over it, did he? No, he didn't seem to. Though he did sneer down into her face one last time and Haven felt sick, all over again, as he told her she'd be down there awhile.

Ewing liked to keep ladies waiting.

She didn't know how to process it then. The idea. Of what was awaiting her. Haven had never felt so hopeless and helpless before. She'd only ever been with Locke, really, fully, at that point, and she knew that didn't really matter, did it, because this wasn't like that, but it was the only thing she could think about and how horrible it was, to have to think about, and she was so fucking sorry, for everything she'd done to get her to that point.

So fucking sorry.

Because she was weak.

She was so fucking weak.

But Ewing did seem to enjoy the aspect of it, that the men mentioned. Forcing you to wait. And dread just what you were awaiting.

He left her too long.

What they bound her with wasn't enough and, even without her magic, Haven was eventually able to break her rope bonds and, the first time that thick, basement door was swung open, she stormed it.

A woman, no doubt one of the poor unfortunate silent ones, who now she was sure was punished severely, being forced to take the blame, seemed to be heading down into the basement to give her a small tray of food and a glass of water. But Haven body slammed her, in her mad dash out.

It was an exterior door, the basement's was, and Haven had no idea what to do, once she was out in the fresh air again. Only ran. This caused a commotion, of course, and as she chose to flee towards the mountains, hoping to lose the men on her tail along the way, it was stark reminder that if she faltered, if she tripped, slowed down, exactly what awaited her upon capture.

Which was why it was difficult to reconcile with herself why she went back. Now. She felt...stronger, obviously, than when she'd been here before, but also…

Ewing was still doing his shit and that was fucked because, once more, Haven felt more capable of stopping him. Than the other women that were captive on his property. Her own hubris, once more, doing her in.

Haven imagined this was why she was chained now, to the wall, in such a manner. An extra precaution. Or perhaps a punishment. It didn't matter. Explanations were null in such situations.

No one seemed to speak of the basement on the property. She hadn't really heard anyone mention it, honestly. But when she heard that other person shift around, as well as his soft breathing, she figured she understood. At least a bit.

The basement was windowless and hot, unbearably so. The walls were cement and the flooring to match. It made the perfect place to throw one of your 'workers' when other discipline techniques were falling through. As she knew of the lashings thrown out the other day, towards the men, Haven reasoned the one trapped down there with her was one and the same.

Her mind was flooding back to her now, no longer struggling against her chains, and even allowing her feet to relax, knowing she'd only exhaust herself otherwise. She had no idea how long she was intended to hang there, but she was aware enough to realize she'd have to pace herself on the shoving up thing.

If it was truly helping her at all.

"Hey," she managed on the second try, finding her dry throat not quite cooperative. "I can, uh, hear you, you know. I know you're in here. Are you...tied up too?"

There was some more shuffling, perhaps some consideration, before the soft, masculine reply of, "No. Not...not like you."

"Good. That's good." Haven was fighting to keep her eyes open. "How long have you been in here? Er...how long have I been? Do you know?"

"For you? Not long."

"We're going to have to...figure some way out of this. You know? Like… Fuck, Locke could do this. Get out of this. Or his stupid dad. He'd just eat the metal."

"You're delirious." There was more shifting in the dark before, slowly, Haven could feel a presence near her. Though she recoiled initially, it was merely the man, his arms bound before him, but no other part of his body. Haven imagined most didn't require much restraint here.

As he stood, he groaned some, exhibiting rather clear discomfort, but still, holding something out in his arms, he motioned towards her.

It was a bowl of some sort, but Haven turned her head when he tried to present it to her.

"Keep it," she told him, imaging the liquid it housed to be water or perhaps some sort of broth. "You need it. Not me."

"They'll come around soon. With more."

He was insistent and it wasn't enough, not nearly, but as she allowed the liquid to travel down her throat, it at least soothed it momentarily. As she finished the bowl, he only stumbled back some, falling down onto his butt as he stared up at her.

"What did you do?" he asked her softly. "To Ewing? To get...chained?"

"It doesn't matter." Haven almost resented the tiny bit of water he'd shared with her. It almost seemed to drive her thirst more. "Are you from Fiore?" She couldn't see which direction he shook his head, but continued anyways. "I'm from Fairy Tail. One of the top guilds. My father...was the guild master, but the rest of my family… They'll all come for me soon. And raze this damn place to the ground. So don't worry, alright?"

He shifted away, once more, at her words, and Haven felt it was just as well. No one had to believe her. She knew they'd be here for her soon.

And the idea of it kept her mind off the inevitable.

Though she worked at tugging against the iron barring her wrists, it seemed to do nothing, but chafe them, and fuck, she wasn't going to be able to break out of them on her own.

Ewing had sent her down to the basement still in the damn dress and it was hot as fuck, honestly, and she felt gross, her sweat dripping into the sores she was making on her wrists, tired and filthy, but she had to keep trying. It was true, she knew it was, deep in her heart, that they would be coming for her soon, but she just had to...keep trying, because if she didn't then...then…

If you don't try then…

The light hurt, when the cellar door was opened. Haven skewed her eyes shut while the man, who she now got at least somewhat of a glimpse at, scurried back, furthering into the basement, hiding from it.

But it wasn't Ewing. Or a henchman. It one of the other silent women. She only walked a few steps down into the basement before behind over, dropping a tray in her hands, and hurrying right back out. As Haven, finally, relented and closed her eyes fully.

The second the door was once more shut, the man rushed forward, to look over what he was given. While he'd given her the last few drips of his water not long ago, Haven imagined that he wasn't going to be much up for sharing again. And, the thought that he could possibly have been given enough rations for them both, but was now in complete control of their share.

She was the mage. She was the one who had to save him. She was prepared for this shit.

When she heard him stand again, letting out a low moan, Haven's eyes shot open, though it provided little assistance in the pitch blackness.

"Save it," she insisted to him. "For yourself. Ewing...he won't let me die. Let me starve. And if he did...my family-"

"There's no family here. You're from Fiore?' He let out a short huff of breath. "Fiore means nothing now. They cannot come for you."

"They will."

"They cannot. So eat. You're not special to Ewing." He only had a stale crust to share with her and a small portion of the water. Still, it was with a sigh now, that he assured the blonde, "No one is special down here."

The past few weeks, months, maybe the past year, since she'd been awakened from eternity, all seemed to crawl by, getting slower and slower with each iteration. She'd thought there would be nothing worse than waiting for the fall to fade away, to get to the first trials, but no, Locke wasn't picked for those and she had to wait for the snow and ice to melt, so what? She could sit around some decrepit house and, once it drifted by, it was only to fall into weeks of menial, but grueling work and abuse and now, here...here…

Time truly had no meaning. No passage. No signification. At all. Boredom wasn't a symptom because it was something much worse, wasn't it? Not even dreading now, no. She had no reason to dread anything. It felt akin to the limbo she'd been sealed in, a year prior, but without the constant memories and thoughts.

Seconds felt like hours and if a multiple days past, she'd have just as quickly believed it as if only one. The man with her seemed weak and, given his frequent grunts and groans, Haven had to wonder how well he was in all.

She thought they should make conversation. Keep one another awake. But this felt like too much and it was just all so bleak. The man did offer her his name, Jed, but little else. Only insured her that it would be a day, at least, before they arrived back with more rations. How do you punish the already punished? With even harsher restrictions.

It was sick, but she almost found herself longing for the evening meal, around the time she thought it came, and a chance to walk the grounds.

Jed seemed to grow antsy at some point, tapping a finger against the ground while Haven was forcing herself up again, trying to take clean, clear breaths. Something seemed wrong. Like he was awaiting something. While she doubted his ability to keep time any better than she, Haven imagined that perhaps his internal clock, over the course of the days he'd been trapped down there, had become accustomed to a schedule. A routine. And clearly, it was being broken.

It was together though, that they sensed what was brewing beyond the basement door. At first, it sounded like maybe one of the horses had gotten loose, turned over a carriage or something. There was a lot of shouting, at least. Maybe someone was getting beaten.

Slowly, as these sounds didn't die away, Jed found himself slowly slinking towards the thick door, to press his ear against it, while Haven only raised her head, not fully lucid.

"Could it...be your family?" he whispered softly to her, but Haven knew that wasn't the case. No.

If someone had come for her, from Fairy Tail, it would surely be her father. Her mother.

Locke.

She'd have sensed any of their magic miles off, out of it or not. Beneath ground or not. So no, it wasn't Fairy Tail. Or even anything particularly magical. But the commotion wasn't dying down and Jed jumped some, stumbling backwards down the stairs, when they heard what sounded like gunshots.

Haven's eyes snapped closed, when the door was suddenly shoved open, expecting the worse as Jed, unprepared, tossed his arms over his face, as if to protect himself from the unknown intruder.

But it wasn't one of the henchmen. Or a man at all. Rather, it was one of the silent women, standing there with the door agape, allowing the light of a setting sun inside along with the reverberating sounds of screams of panic.

The woman at the top of the stairs glanced first from Jed and then to Haven, where she hung close by, peeking her eyes open slowly.

It was Neeve and, at the sight of the blonde, she rushed forwards, passed Jed, coming over to frown at her.

"What's going on?" Jed questioned as Haven's vision was filled only with the other woman. "Up there?"

"I thought you to be...deceptive. Before," Neeve said instead to Haven. "I thought… There was talk of how you came here and having connections to Ewing and I… After you were taken, I thought this true, but when the girl who brought you your meal the other day confirmed you were down here-"

"What," Jed insisted as shadows ran passed above, "is going on out there?"

"You told of...fliers. Behind the dorm." Neeve was patting at her pants then, retrieving a key from one pocket. "We found them. When we heard you were down here… If you were to die or be harmed, how can we be certain? That your group will save us? There was a vote and… It had to be now."

"Is..." Jed stood with another low groan, staring up and out of the doorway above them. "Is there a revolt?"

"Yes." Neeve slipped the key into the cuffs at Haven's left hand. "But we must hurry. Help me."

Jed seemed unsure, hesitating for a moment, no doubt thinking of just running for it. Haven couldn't blame him if he did. But as the first chain fell, he did head over, allowing Haven to fall against him when, after Neeve released the second, Haven couldn't support herself. Though he wasn't too stable himself, the man was able to steady her as Haven only gasped, the feeling of her full weight back on her own two feet almost too much to bear.

"We have to hurry." Neeve was moving them to grab the blonde by the arms. Staring into her blue, clouded eyes, she insisted, 'We could note wait for you to make the first move. We had to make it on our own. Can you still get in contact with your team?"

"If I...had a lacrima," she whispered, thinking more of Fairy Tail than Astra's group. "Then-"

"Then come."

Neeve bounded up the steps, Haven and Jed limping along behind her, only to be welcomed into what felt like unadulterated chaos.

It wasn't like Haven didn't know wounds. Or battle. Because she did. But it was all relating to magic. Given the prevalence of it was not nearly as strong in the Bosco, as in Fiore, they had other methods of destruction.

Guns seemed to be one of them.

But not magically powered.

No.

There was a strong scent in the air that Haven didn't right know as, along the grounds, there seemed no order at all.

She'd counted them all before. The slaves. Including her, she'd never counted more than fifty and once or twice arrived at what felt like the solid number of around forty-six. Before, when she thought of how to set off a revolt, she had something of a plan, hoping to get the men fully on her side, and use them to overpower some of the henchmen in the night and storm the mansion. From what she could tell, however, this was no the plan deemed by the others.

It all came together so randomly. There was vote, as Neeve had explained, among the women, led by the one Haven had so easily convinced the day she was taken by Ewing. She'd been the one to discover the fliers and disperse them, with little concern, to those who were willing to take one. The men included, handing a couple of them off on one she passed on the grounds.

There was a brazen approach to this, a sense of necessity as, given the flier's not fully divulged details, it felt as if, should they lose Haven, then the entire dream would be dead and gone and then what?

This was crap-shoot, fine, but it was the closest to hope some of them had gotten in a good while. And the vote was hardly unanimous, but it felt strong enough to risk it all on. Their only chance. Before it slipped away.

"Where," Haven questioned as her eyes adjusted to the dusk, finding the grounds before them speckled with bodies, one of the women, three of the men, and what appeared to be a few of the henchmen, "is Ewing?"

"He left," Neeve told her as they walked, but it felt like with no direction, Jed's eyes bounding wildly around, trying to pinpoint what exactly they should be doing, where they should be going. "Early this morning. That is when we held the vote. He will only be gone until tomorrow night. We knew with him being gone, taking some of his men with him-"

"His wife and daughters?"

But Neeve seemed uncertain of Haven's question but, as the adrenaline began to pump through her veins once more, the blonde was beginning to feel in control once more.

There were people running about, but they all seemed to be the silent men and women, some attempting to care for wounded and others seemingly to be at a complete loss of direction. There were no henchmen around, it seemed like, other than the four she spotted lying in blood nearby. Their guns and weapons had been confiscated, mostly by the men and one in particular seemed to be something of a ringleader, maybe, as he held the gun confidently over his chest, at the nearby stable, where there seemed to be some people loading up in the carriages and trying to calm the spooked horses.

"Do you know if anyone's left the property?"

The man frowned at Haven as she shoved her way over to him, looking gaunt and unwell. Still, he only retorted a gruff, "What?" in confusion.

Still, she insisted. "Do you know if anyone's left the property?"

"What fucking difference does it make? And what the fuck do you think we're trying to do?" he questioned with a bit of a growl, but she only kept his gaze.

"The city's not far from here," she told him simply. 'If we flee there then everyone will know what's going on up here. If they don't already, with all the gunfire. We don't want that."

"What are you-"

"She's the one," Neeve spoke up then as she and Jed still stood at her side. "From the guild. She has a plan."

"So do we," came the retort from one of the other men who was climbing aboard the carriage. "Get the fuck outta here."

"With those marks on your arms? All together? Where the fuck do you think you're going to go?" Haven shook her head. "We can let people leave. Not until I contact my people. Please. If someone heads into town or someone from down there comes up here to investigate, then we're going to end up with a lot more bloodshed. So just fucking listen to me, alright? I know what I'm doing."

"That why you were locked up?" came a jeer from another, but Haven ignored him.

She knew this game, after all. It's how she got along those years she was away from the guild. You just had to get in good with the one person, the guy, usually. Get him on your side and you can do whatever you want.

As he stared into Haven's blue eyes, the other man's weren't filled with nearly as much confidence. There'd been a rush, after all, in the immediate aftermath, when the bumbrushed the henchmen stationed out in the yards, ripping their guns and tasers from them. Some of the guys had been shot, during this, but fuck, if it wasn't cathartic. The pure adrenaline was exhilarating and it felt like nothing else mattered.

Other than garnering power in those moments.

But they were over now.

And some of the men and two of the women that had been shot were already dead. The other injured weren't necessarily in the best hands either. There weren't enough carriages to get everyone out and nowhere to take the ones who could. Ewing would be back soon, with the rest of his men and, should anyone have been alerted to the town outside the valley, then they were fucked, because he would find out and be coming with reinforcements.

"Give her a gun," the man finally grumbled, but Haven only shook her head.

"I just need to know where his daughters and wife are," Haven said simply.

"Barricaded inside." The man nodded towards the mansion. "There's a panic room hidden somewhere in the manor. Some of the others have gone inside to try and find it."

"Just keep everyone inside the grounds," Haven insisted to the man before turning to walk away.

She wanted to appear confident, but it was difficult because her body ached and she needed to lie down, honestly, but these were the sorts of things they found through, weren't they? Her parents? In all the stories of how they'd driven out evil from their Kingdom?

Now it was her turn.

"You have a plan," Jed questioned as he and Neeve continued to follow her, but Haven didn't answer.

How could she?

When it was certainly in the negative?

They entered the house through the back door, but it was no less chaotic. The rest of the men and women were inside, some raiding the pantry and others harassing a lone henchmen, tied up in the living room. Haven ignored all this though as, looking to Neeve, she had one request.

"Do you know," she asked, "where I can find a communication lacrima?"

It wasn't difficult. There was one downstairs, in fact, in a tiny library off the main hall. It was where Lady Ewing kept in contact with most of her distant friends, the lacrima already set up on the desk and a pad of paper with magical addresses of different contacts. Haven only fell into the seat at the desk while trying to hide a moan.

They'd lost Jed somewhere along the way, the kitchen, probably, but Neeve still stood by, staring expectantly at the younger woman.

She couldn't call Fairy Tail.

Well, she could.

Technically.

But it would take them too long to get there. Ewing was to arrive the following evening. That gave them a day, if not less than that, to formulate a plan. And though she was pleased to keep the rest of the Ewings and henchmen locked away, hidden within the manor, she imagined they wouldn't stay that way for long. They were no doubt with their own lacrima, perhaps, trying to contact someone to get there, to stop what was taking place and fuck.

Fuck.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

Any of it.

So close and yet…

"Do you have one of the fliers?" Haven asked and Neeve frowned, but did produce one, folded neatly, from her pocket. After she handed it off to the blonde, Haven only told her, "Leave me alone. For a minute. If that's alright. I think that Lady Ewing is going to stay hidden for now. Just wait outside the door, alright?"

Haven didn't quite know who she was going to be greeted with on the lacrima. At all. Lambent Waves still...distantly familiar, maybe, but…

It felt Astra left it for her, did it? Hadn't she? She'd done what the flier told her to. She'd told of the group's intent, spread the message, balanced their fears, and now...now…

"Lambent Waves. Capt'n speaking."

"Luka," Haven whispered breathlessly when, on the other end of the lacrima, she was greeted with the bright face of the other woman. "It's your ship. On the crates. Lambent-"

"Cargo," she remarked warmly, a grin spreading across her features. "You look...like fucking death."

"Why?" was all Haven could think to ask, confused, as she stared at the other woman. Shaking her head slightly, she questioned, "Are you going to help me?"

"With all your shipping needs."

"No, I mean… Ewing's gone. And there's been a revolt. And I have to get everyone out of the mansion before he gets back, but-"

"When will he be back?"

"Tomorrow. In the evening, but-"

"Ooh, cargo gotta move that quick is gonna cost you there." Luka sighed as she shifted, on her side of the lacrima, to write something down. "How many of you are there?"

"Around...fifty? But his wife and daughters and some of the henchmen are somewhere in the manor and-"

"Subdued?"

"Sorta, I guess, but-"

"You have to be certain that they won't recognize my men." Luka dropped the pen in her hand, sitting back as she tipped her hat. "Once you've gotten them taken care of, get everyone gathered outside. Be prepared to let my men in through the front gates. They'll load you all up."

"Load us up into what?"

But Luka didn't answer, instead warning simply, "Remember, cargo don't talk."

The lacrima cut and then Haven was staring into the crystal at only her own reflection. Her eyes were drooping and the dress she wore wasn't much better. Before she went back out there, to command the others over a plan she still felt rather in the dark about, Haven to collect herself a bit. Calm down. Take a breath.

But not rest.

There was still too much to be done.

Rising, Haven went to the door and opened it to find Neeve, as well as some other women and a few of the men, waiting.

"Someone's coming for us," she assured the small group amassed. "Spread it to the others. We need to be in the front of the property when they come. They'll get us to safety."

"Across the border?" someone questioned, but she only walked on, passed them all and bounding up the staircase.

The basement seemed to span a rather considerable length under ground and Haven couldn't imagine the 'panic room' to be under there as well, even from a separate entry point. The downstairs in general felt too open, like someone would have seen where they'd gotten off to. At the top of the stairs, as she let out a soft sigh, Haven was certain they were somewhere among the maze of rooms.

There were far less people up here. Just three of them, one of the men and two women, who were in the hunt for the Ewings as well. They only had one gun between them, but had snagged knives from the kitchens well and, when Haven passed them in the halls, she found herself rather glad for their nod of understanding her way.

It was easy enough to ditch the dress in one of the rooms. It seemed to belong to one of the henchmen and, as such, his clothes didn't rightly fit, but felt better, at least, than the filthy, sweat-soaked dress. Glancing in his closet was dual purposed, anyways; she was certain that she'd find some sort of hidden trap in one, a false back, leading to the panic room.

Only a month or two prior, she and one of Erza's adopted sons, Ravan, had been exploring an abandoned mansion. There was trick to it, in order to open a secret passage down into a laboratory. She imagined it would be the same, here, and took to tossing what the others hadn't already rifled through off dressers and shelves, but to no avail.

All it was doing was weakening her. And she had to be strong, when she found them.

She met back up with the trio patrolling the upstairs and, much like her, they seemed to be at a loss.

"Everyone else is gathering up in the yard," Haven told them. "Maybe head out there. Or go stay in your bunks. In case someone from the city comes by to check on all the noise."

"What about the Ewings?" one of the women asked her. "Should we just leave them hidden?"

"Might as well," the man insisted, leading the women off. "Why poke the nest?"

Haven felt somewhat the same, but Luka had instructed her otherwise. And though she was still somewhat apprehensive about the other woman (she was Astra's connection after all and that brought up some obvious hesitance), her cautions were still valid.

She had her own reputation to protect.

But as she stood there, thinking, Haven tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling.

"The nest," she whispered, mostly to herself. Aloud though, she motioned on to the others, telling them to leave it to her; she knew exactly where they were hiding.

If you can't go down and you can't slip through the sides, where else was there to go, but up?

An attic of some sort, she thought, but where? She hadn't seen a pull string for a ladder or anything like that, in all her wandering. There had be some sort of way up, she was sure. Maybe hidden by magic. Or just a mechanical contraption. Something hiding it from plain sight, obviously.

Locke could have figured it out.

Haven even smiled some, at the thought.

But she wasn't Locke.

And fuck the Ewings and all that had gone in the fucking house.

Part of her wanted to burn it to the ground.

But part of Haven always wanted to burn traumatic shit to the ground. She usually came to her senses before that point. And now, obviously, if they were to start a fire, that would only attract more attention from the nearby town and they did not want that.

No.

She'd have liked to summon a bolt of lightning, to strike right through the roof, down to her outstretched arm, but of course, her powers were sealed within her and, though she could feel the electricity flowing through her, as she held out a hand, nothing came.

It felt bottled up.

She wondered, distantly and absently, if her father would have this problem. Her sister. Their lacrimas generated and stored powered within themselves. Would it be strong enough, then, to break the barrier presented by the magical slave branding? Or just completely circumvent it?

It was this that made her think of it. Consider it.

The magic was still there, of course, just barred from exiting her body, but she could feel it pooling inside of her, building up. She wanted to expend it, all, but she could think of no real way to accomplish that.

But then she thought of her mother. And her magic.

The seal was to contain magic within the person, keeping them from effectively attacking their captor. But her mother's magic...takeover… She wasn't expelling magic out at something; the magic was contained within herself the entire time. The demons that she contained…

Haven had her own demon now. And though, when she raised her left hand, it didn't drip with the sickly, purple hued magic, but she could feel a thumping in her chest.

"Ahesuka," she whispered, speaking aloud the name for the first time, truly.

She'd read it, not long ago, and feared mispronouncing it. Locke's mother, Levy, had given it to her, written it down, along with some other information on the name as it related back to the demon supposedly trapped inside of her.

The whole thing hadn't been absorbed. By her. Her mother, actually, had absorbed it, truly, after it released its hold on Haven, nearly a year prior. But she'd felt its presence still, the blonde had, even after it was supposed to be have vacated her body.

Her mother said she still had some of it inside of her.

And, as she clasped her fist tightly, she watched it transform in the dimly lit hall, closing as her normal, fleshy fingers, only to unfurl as long, skiny appendages, scaled and leading down into points. Haven laughed, sort of, to herself as she tugged up the sleeve of the shirt she'd found, just to see exactly where the demonic fist ended and she began.

While she felt somewhat like her mother, she felt far closer to her only true, blood uncle. Elfman. With her one, demonic arm.

Clenching her fist again though, Haven stared up at the ceiling once more, above her.

It was time to smoke out some rats.

She'd have felt much better, with her other, typical arm electrified, pounding it into the wood above and bursting onto the scene. But oh, the flair Haven had for dramatics was certainly quenched as, after running to gain speed down the halls, she'd spring up, with all her might, demonic claw outstretched, smashing right through the wood.

Her scaly flesh felt impervious to all and, with little concern, she jumped up, at the hole of splintered wood she'd made, using her new appendage to claw her way up, nearly falling back down on her ass, but oh, she could do it. She had to do it.

But the area she pulled herself into was nothing more than beams, stretched across the massive manor, and it was dark as shit, up there, given all that was above her was the underside of roofing. Her eyes seemed to adjust better though, or differently, at least, with her demonic energy radiating over her body, and she could spot it, in the distance.

There was a set of walls, looking strange in the mass of emptiness and beams. It was clearly what she was looking for.

But it wasn't like it was an easy trek over there, jumping over the beams and fearing missing. Her energy level was high in the sense she was pumped up, but she knew it was waning and she wasn't at her best. If she missed a beam and fell through the insulation, she was worried she wouldn't have the strength to try again.

It wasn't her best effort, and she almost slipped quite a few times, but eventually, Haven found her way made over to the structure, taking a moment out to observe it.

It was raised slightly, the beams supporting it enforced and thick while the walls appeared to be made of something other than just standard paneling or drywall. Some sort of sheet metal. She could hear soft talking, murmuring, from inside and, raising a single claw, she tapped against the side of the wall.

Haven imagined it was terrifying. To those trapped inside. But fuck, fuck, she wanted to terrify them. Horrify them. Make them feel even an ounce of the terror they forced upon others.

There was probably a special way to access the room. Like she thought before. But that would almost certainly be beneath them. If Haven was going to get in, then she had to get through the walls.

She thought it would hurt. After psyching herself up to try. Taking in deep breaths that she counted, having a number for herself to just go for it. When she dug her claws into the metal though and, with a loud grunt, the pain was overwhelmed by the adrenaline and her own cries by the ones of those trapped inside the room.

There was a firing of a gun.

And Haven felt it, hot and burning, as a bullet pierced her scaled claw, a dark red blood escaping and staining the white flesh. But this didn't stop her. She just continued to claw at the metal as she heard the Ewing women scream and the henchmen yell some commands at her, but it was no use.

Finally, truly, honestly, Haven felt like she was back in control.

She must have looked horrific. Sickly demonic. She could feel it anyways, Haven could, in this strange way. The purple aura that she emitted. She'd never felt anything like it before, but it gave her power where hers was beginning to flicker out and, as she ordered the terrified mass out of the hiding space, she wasn't surprised to find they listened on first command.

But somewhat disappointed. Maybe. Her desire for at least a bit of bloodshed felt disgusting, but as she marched the holdouts into the yard, it took some convincing on her part for the Ewings and their cohorts not to be strung up right there.

Honestly, had Haven not still been in her transformation, she wasn't sure she could have stopped it. And, upon not being able to, if she might not have participated.

Her transformation struck fear in the others as well, however, as she stood out in the yard, before them, her claw at her side and a soft, purple glow irradiating from her. One of the women cried out, even, when they saw her, but Haven only addressed some of the silent men, who stood by, cradling their guns over their chest, staring at her in equal terror.

"Open," she ordered simply, "the gates. And walk the Ewings into the mountains. Just to edge. They'll carry on by themselves."

"Fuck we will," came the angry retort from one of the henchmen, but when Haven turned back to look at him, he only coward backwards, disarmed and powerless.

The daughters, in their nice, summer dresses, all clung to one another now, sobbing, along with some of the female, standard workers on the manor, who'd hidden away with them. Lady Ewing, however, stood before them, a dark look in her eyes as she attempted to stare Haven down.

"My husband," she began and she shook, slightly, as she spoke, but seemed able to swallow her fears as her voice appeared unwavering, "and he will strike you down. He-"

"Go to the mountains." Haven held up her claw then, point a long finger in their direction. "And you will not turn back. You will not return here. You will climb through the pass. And if you turn around, if you glance back… We'll shoot you dead." Lowering her hand slight then, she glanced down at her claw before back at the older woman and adding, "Or worse."

There was obvious hesitance, but the threat of guns (and a demon) seemed to be enough to get the Ewings and their company to march across the property and then, out of it, the men they'd previously abused now holding the weapons and egging them on.

Haven feared they'd shoot them, the second they were out of sight. Or that the Ewings would try something and they'd have to do so. Execute them. While she wasn't wholly against the idea, she did still have some reservations as well as fears of disturbing the town below and ending up in a full blown battle.

She couldn't handle that.

For many reasons, of course, but mostly because she felt like she was going to fucking pass out.

As she allowed her demonic form to fade back into her normal presence, it took a lot out of her not to collapse. Eyes were still on her, of those who weren't hiding out somewhere on the property, and those some of her formal peers were eyeing her with suspicion and fear, as the pruple glow evaporated, Neeve came rushing right up.

"You've been shot," the woman observed softly, reaching out for Haven's hand. It was back to its normal form though now stained with blood and with a gaping wound. The pain was beginning to set in as well.

Giving it over to the other woman, the blonde merely nodded as, just as soft, she whispered, "Yeah, I, uh, guess you were right. We should never be alone."

Neeve made a sound of agreement as, with nothing to properly dig the bullet out (or the knowledge of how to go about it), she merely had some sort of fabric that she began to bind around the wound and, well, Haven imagined that was the best she could expect for the time being.

There were so many worse off. And she wanted to help them all, she did, but she was without her medic or, even, really, strength to do much else. Other than sit and wait.

And hope.

After so long, hope had returned to the manor.

The sound was heard before the source was seen, as the silent fell back into this, seated either in the front lawn or back in their barracks. A slow, steady rumble could be felt against the ground and it was someone coming for a shipment, of course. Or one coming in.

This wouldn't have been a big deal, say, even twelve ours prior. But now there was no one there to greet them, bodies strewn across the lawn, and obvious disarray.

Haven rose though, from where she'd sat on the front porch steps of the manor, to walk the long path down to the front gate, some of the men coming to peer out with her, into the night.

Big, burly men were walking along, leading the way, a clipboard in the hand of one, a torch in the hand of the other, as behind them two long, shipping containers were drug on pallets by horses.

"Shipment?" one of the men questioned Haven, a knowing glint in her eye, as they stared at one another front behind the closed gate.

"To Fiore?" she whispered softly and, at his nod, was quick to unlatch the gate.

It wasn't exactly easy to convince the hysterical and apprehensive people to climb into unmarked shipping containers, stack in there, honestly. She honestly wasn't looking forward to it either. But, as she explained, the only other option was to wait around for Ira Ewing to arrive home or, maybe, test their luck out their on their own.

And though they were welcome to try, she spoke from experience; it wouldn't be a pleasant experience. Far worse than what they would endure, following her into the crates.

Honestly though, one of the harder decisions to make were leaving behind the bodies of those who didn't make it. Haven wanted to take them with them, to bury them somewhere other than the hellscape they'd spent their final months or years trapped at. But the logistics didn't make sense and the best anyone could offer them was to toss white sheets over their heads and carry on in their memory.

The wounded were another difficulty. They needed to be silent, on their decent back through town and transported onto the awaiting ship. But many of them were, truly, gravely wounded and though Haven though it might be for the better, to leave them behind, she knew she couldn't.

No way.

Only if she stayed behind with them.

Luka's men helped her and the others carry any of the wounded into the crates first, to put them as much ease as possible, before they piled in as well, cramped and uncomfortable, but free.

Weren't they?

Not yet, truly, as Luka's men still had to leave them on a bumpy ride through towns and back to the docks, which seemed to take forever. Standing room only, for those who could. Haven found herself squashed between people and the stench in the container was just bad enough to remind her of her first job, all those years ago, back in Haiko with her friends.

Thinking back on the memories were enough to distract her from all that was going on about them.

After being tossed and tumbled around in the container, the second the crates were placed upon the ship, everyone was antsy to be let out. But Luka forced them to wait, until they were further away from land, in the open waters between the two Kingdoms, where no jurisdiction could claim them. It was only then that her men came to break the nailed shut crates and they all came flooding out, up from below deck to fill deck.

Haven thought to stay down below, where the injured were still confined, but regardless of her condition, there was still someone she had to see.

She found Luke on the bow of the ship, smoking while overlooking the endless water before them. The sun was high in the sky with a slight breeze accompanying it and Haven never noticed it before.

How good the air felt.

So close to home.

And even though they were headed from thousands of miles away from her real home, in Magnolia, at that moment, any fucking where in Fiore was good enough for her.

Luka's cap was gone that day, her bright, shiny hair being free to blow in the breeze and, as she took in a deep drag from the cigarette protruding from her lips, she hardly gave Haven a glance. Still, on the exhale, she remarked, "Cargo stays below deck."

But Haven ignored this, instead only questioning, "How are you going to get us into a port? In Fiore? And how did you get out of Bosco?"

"A good sea capt'n should always have her connections." The huff of smoke was short then. Concise. After, she said, "Just like her secrets."

Haven opened her mouth to speak, but the woman only shook her head.

"Look," she said simply, "the two of us? Me and you? Not much need for interaction. I'm contracted out through Astra. She gives me times and locations, I do deliveries. That's all. You and I? This is far more than we'll ever have to speak, on normal terms. Anything you gotta say, any comments, questions, or concerns, go to Astra herself."

"Fuck Astra," Haven retorted simply, but Luka only shrugged, her usual smirk folding over her lips as she only went back to watching the waves and focusing on her smoke.

Turning away from the woman, Haven looked back over the ship instead, watching as the men and women she'd seen so emotionless, so reserved, so...inhumane, at times, it felt like, impersonal, but they wept now, openly, with joy, while some of them only leaned against the railings, silent and somber.

It was over for them. All of them. Now. Finally. And for that, Haven was pleased. She wasn't sure what awaited them in Fiore and was sure most of them new even less, but it was better than where they were before. Loads better. And that was all that mattered.

When she raised her injured hand though up to her face, to frown down at the bloodstained gauze, she was reminded that this wasn't the case for her. No way.

Her first trip back into Bosco was complete, but she knew that it would be far from her last.


	3. New Arrivals: Part III

It was a cloudless day, the setting sun still beating heavily down on those amassed on the decks of the ship. At the first sign of land, they all had gathered on the ship's deck, even dragging up the injured from down below, to take it all in.

For some people, who'd been under for a long time, this felt too good to be true.

And for one or two, who'd only known the marking on their arm and the silence, it was unconscionable.

But for Haven, it was a different sort of paranoia that set in her belly. The others were worried about where their lives went from here and what freedom meant now; but Haven had only recently lost hers. Even then, in someways, it felt like not fully. There would be no harsh adjustment period and, hopefully, only fleeting residuals from this moment. She didn't have to worry about how she would support herself or where to go after the ship docked; she knew exactly where she'd go.

To bash someone's attractive little skull in.

But first, as she felt a tightness in her chest, it wasn't from nerves. No. It was from butterflies of a different nature and she hadn't been certain that he'd be there, awaiting her arrival, but somehow, she felt foolish for that reason.

Astra had awoken the house to news from Luka on the lacrima about a successful mission abroad (which Xay and Shae then relayed to Locke out in the barn). She had marching orders for them all, but Locke didn't rightly care for any of that; at all. Haven was supposed to be on that ship and fuck everything else.

She was all that mattered.

And she looked fucking awful, she knew, as she stepped off the plank of wood running from the boat to the dock, her pack, which she'd found on the ship still, once more placed upon her shoulders, the only thing that didn't look absolutely filthy, but it didn't seem to matter as he was right there. She'd seen him, felt him, even, before that, and the second she stepped onto the dock, he seemed to be right there.

"Locke," she complained softly into his chest. She didn't feel great, before, but as she allowed herself be pulled into his arms, she at least felt calm. More so than she had in what felt like weeks. "Stop."

But he couldn't.

The others were stepping off the boat as well, a lot of them, filing off, as Luka oversaw this from her ship. Richard was there, at the end of the dock, motioning them over, as Xavier and Shae stood at his side, passing out a small bag, which included a few jewels, a map of the local area, and a list of guilds looking for immediate members. In particular, Richard was mentioning his guild to each person that passed through.

Also though, he was sure to inform each person that, if they waited around the dock for a bit, he would be taking a group back to their super, secret base.

"For anyone," he insisted, "that don't got anywhere else to go."

Haven could hear his loud, obnoxious voice and, though she still wasn't certain what level of anger to direct at the man, she found she' couldn't rightly do much of all as Locke still insisted on keeping her there, in the way of the others walking down the dock, as he checked her out.

"There's other people-"

"I don't care."

"Hurt people. Who actually need you-"

"Don't care."

"I'm alright. I just need-"

"Haven." Locke, who was running his hands along her sides and arms, magic circles over his palms, as he gave he applied basic healing to any of her obvious ailments, looked her in the eyes then as his hands came up instead to cup her cheeks. "I don't care."

"Fine." Raising her wounded hand, she winced some as he immediately started to unwrap the gauze and said, "Can you take care of this for me then?"

And Locke wasn't pleased.

At all.

But as he ran his magic circles over her palm, Haven was forced to stomach the gut-wrenching pain healing this wound caused, trying to seem brave before those she'd wowed only hours before.

There were far worse injured though, with gunshot and stab wounds, that he actually had to climb on board the ship to deal with, before they could be helped off it, but Haven wasn't much up for climbing back aboard. Not with the way Luka seemed to be watching her from afar.

Xavier was pleased at Haven's return, unable to hide the grin that spread across his face when she made eye contact with her. But the blonde didn't go to address the trio, rather, all healed up (at least from the major things) by her boyfriend, Haven went to stand among the silent as they considered their next move. Some looked to her, for guidance, but Haven wasn't even sure of her current position in her new group.

"I'm going back to the safe house," she admitted truthfully to some of them. "But… If you can make it, all the way across the Kingdom, my real guild, my real home, in Magnolia, in Fairy Tail… Just tell them I sent you and they'll treat you right. Let you join up. No matter what."

Though some people departed immediately, most of the silent seemed to stick around. At least for that evening. It was getting late and the idea of trekking around even somewhere relatively safe, like Fiore, especially with that slave branding on their arm, didn't appeal to most.

Astra seemed to have thought of that though, as she'd bought out rooms at the local inn and Richard assured them they'd put them up for the night, before they made the journey out to the safe house the next morning.

Haven wasn't sticking around though. No way. The second Locke climbed back off the boat, having done all he could for the injured, it was to return to her side.

"We're going back," she told him simply as the man only, once more, hugged her slightly. He did nod his head though, not needing an exact explanation.

She didn't seem ready to offer one to him. It was all wearing on her, catching up to her, and Locke held her hand, on their hike back to the safe house. Night fell during this journey and Locke told her a few times, even when they were close, that they could stop off and camp out for the night, but Haven only shook her head, silent most of the way.

For once, Locke allowed it.

He seemed to be struggling with his own internal thoughts. While not as deep as hers, they were rather intrusive. He was glad to find her well and apparently accomplishing what she'd set out to do, but so far, she hadn't really offered up to him what that was and was leaving him to fill in the blanks.

From his end, they didn't seem too promising or aligned with the new Haven.

But she also looked unwell. And though he was known to harp on her a bit as, honestly, one of the only people she'd allow it from, he also knew when to back off.

Returning from Bosco felt like the exact time to do so.

The closer they got though, the more Locke felt like he should at least say something over his current state of affairs as far as the group went, but when he opened his mouth to do so, it was to only quickly be silenced.

"Haven," he began, "while you were gone… Astra came back without you and I just-"

"Yeah," she agreed oddly. "I'll take care of her."

He should have stopped her before they got back to the property. Made her explain what she meant. But he was just so relieved to feel her hand in his once more that he didn't really care what she did. She could do anything she wanted, honestly, so long as it was done in his eyesight.

A light was still on in the house, when they arrived on the property. Haven's exhaustion was only growing worse, but she pressed on at the sight, rushing a bit faster now as Locke allowed himself to be drug along.

Tossing open the back door, they found Astra in the kitchen, some jewels spread out in front of her, as well as a map. Sound pods hung from her ears and she glanced up in surprise when the door was tossed open, not nearly as vigilant as she should have been.

She smiled though, oddly, when she noted them, and Locke felt uneasy, when Haven dropped his hand, because he could read the blonde's energy well and it was not grateful (ever, really) towards the other woman. Rather, it was shaded something far darker.

Still, in the dimly lit kitchen, Haven seemed to hold her tongue as the other woman got to her feet.

"Haven," she remarked warmly, but did keep her distance. "I'm glad to see you're back already. How was-"

"Get," Haven ordered simply, taking a step forwards (to which Astra took one back) and shoving her arm out, showing off the black branding that laid there, "this off me. Now."

Locke had noted it back at the dock, but kept it to himself. Everyone that stepped off the boat bore that marking and, from what Shae told him, he could more than guess what it indicated.

"Of course." Astra even nodded. "I wouldn't have put it on you without a way to get it off. It's a spell. Hold on."

She shut her eyes, Astra did, as she held out a hand. A purple magic circle appeared between her outstretched palm and Haven, holding her arm up to it, watched as, slowly, the magical marking faded away.

It all happened rather fast from there. Locke, not knowing the branding was a magic supresser, assumed Haven wanted it off for more standard reasons and wasn't much on guard. Astra though had to have known, at least a little bit what was coming next.

Or at least Haven convinced herself the woman did.

Her eyes hadn't even opened yet, fully, Astra's hadn't, before Haven, surging the electricity through herself again, finally, fucking finally, immediately tossed up a right hook.

"Haven!" Locke yelled, more out of instinct, as her fist connected with the other woman's jaw.

Astra, for her part, stumbled backwards onto her ass while Haven, fist still electrified, stood over her with a dark gaze.

"You fucking bitch," the older woman growled as her hands flew up to cover her split, bleeding lip.

"Heal her, Locke." Haven only continued to glare at the woman. "Now."

"Why did you do that?" he complained though, reluctantly, he did move to get closer to the other woman. Astra turned away from him, but this hardly mattered, as Locke only bent down, a magic circle of his own appearing before the woman.

"She sold me," Haven answered once it was clear he was following her directive. "Didn't you? You're the fucking bitch. You sold me to Ewing when you knew that he-"

"She what?" And Locke wasn't so generous with his magic then. Shoving back up, he took a step away. "Haven, I didn't-"

"It's fine." She ran one hand over where the marking laid, previously, along her arm, before turning to walk out of the house. "Heal her, Locke. I meant it."

But he didn't want to. At all. He didn't even have the full story yet, but he didn't need it. Instead of helping the woman out, he reached into his pack, which he'd brought along to heal those on the ship, and pulled out a vial of some kind. Tossing it to her, he didn't quite care if she caught it or not. In pain or not.

He just wanted to get back to his girlfriend.

As he opened the backdoor though, there was a blinding light that made both him and Astra squint as it filled the windows and burned their eyes.

"Haven." Locke pushed passed his pain, continuing out the door. "What are you doing?"

It was gone. The light was. The air felt far heavier than she was typically able to make it though and the previously clear night sky now looked clouded and dark. As Locke bounded down the stairs to where she stood in the grass, the woman looked to the clouds with a grim look.

"I wanted to feel it again," she said simply as Locke, noting how unwell she seemed, finally decided she'd had enough. Haven didn't resist though, when he grabbed her arm. Only fell into the man with a sigh. "It takes your magic from you. That branding. Like a seal. I had to feel it all again."

"Yeah, well, you felt it." Locke glanced behind them, at the house, but Astra didn't seem willing to emerge. "C'mon. I've been, uh, sleeping in the barn since you left. You need to rest. And I want to examine you. Fully."

She was the one led along now, reaching the full apex of exhaustion, but still felt somewhat relaxed. Relieved. Now that she'd been given her full powers back. Was able to access them once more. It helped too that she was back with Locke.

It actually helped a lot.

The barn was still under construction, but was free of all the junk inside of it and, as Locke stepped inside, he went immediately to toy with some lanterns he had hung around three of the beams that supported a loft.

"While you were gone," he said as he did so, Haven only taking to slipping her bag off her sore shoulders, "Richard and I have been trying to clean this place up a bit. They want to turn it into, like, a medical bay sorta thing. For members and people that are brought back over from Bosco. It'll also give me a place to go over spells and things. Or it would have. Before."

That last part was said bitterly and, once the lanterns were shining, Locke had returned to Haven with a sour look on his face. But he didn't have a chance to delve into any of the day's recent misgivings as, instead, when he turned back to look at the woman, he found her stripping down.

"You wanna examine me, right?" she questioned as, after dropping the shirt, she took to unbuttoning the pants.

Locke nodded as he came closer. "Whose clothes are those anyways? They're not yours."

"No shit." Stepping out of the pants, she smiled some, finding more relief even, in escaping all holdovers from her terrible few weeks. To her boyfriend, she said, "I found them at the manor. I was in a dress before that."

"So they tortured you?" Locke tried to make light and it worked, sort of, because Haven didn't really laugh at things, especially not with how she was feeling currently, but she did smile warmly.

"Yeah." Standing in only her bra and panties, she took in a breath as Locke, close enough now to touch her, ghosted his fingers over her rib cage, searching more carefully for any ailments. "They did."

Nudity was hardly a concern between the two of them. In certain ways, it hardly ever was. The pair had grown up together in the unconventional world of lengthy training sessions and long excursions out in the woods, traveling to jobs. Atop that, even when the concept took on a new meaning when they aged, their relationship altered around that same time. Locke was the first guy Haven did most things with and he felt far more like an extension of herself than anything else.

There was no awkwardness between them.

There couldn't be.

"Are you going to tell me about it?" he asked softly as he made her hold out both arms, so he could examine them as well. "Hav?"

"Eventually." She had to suppress a yawn. "But I'm tired, Locke."

"Yeah?" As he allowed her to drop her arms, his hand came back to ghost over the scarring across her taut stomach, residuals from the gauntlet. It was at that moment though that her stomach rumbled, loudly, and Haven might have blushed, maybe, if she were able to admit to such a thing. Locke grinned though, at her, as he asked, "Or are you hungry?"

"Both," Haven admitted and he only smiled.

After the woman tugged on some of her own clothes and grabbed her sleeping bag from where it was attached to the bottom of her pack, Locke led her up to the loft where his own was unfurled alongside a half-filled jug of water and a metal container of some sort.

"Gotta keep out the rats," Locke explained, hoping to get a rise out of the woman over this, but, of course, Haven seemed unimpressed.

He was only allowed to be found humorous once a day. Otherwise he might start thinking he was special or something. Haven couldn't have that.

Inside the metal box were some snack foods, taken from the main house, and Haven dug into them as she sat on the man's sleeping back, watching him set her own up. It was while she was sitting there though, eating and drinking his water, that it really started to set in. All that had gone on.

What had almost gone on.

What could have gone on.

And Haven didn't cry over things. Even traumatic ones. Something had to touch her really deep to bring out that emotion. While this was close, it didn't quite reach that level. But when Locke looked over at her and saw how dark her gaze had become, he was quick to shove her sleeping bag right next to his own, sitting beside her on top of it.

"You," he told her softer then, "need to sleep, Haven."

She nodded in agreement at this, but still finished eating and chugged down the rest of his water. During this, Locke rushed back down the stairs, to extinguish the lanterns. When he got back to her, Locke only dropped his jeans and shrugged out of his shirt, planning on sleeping as well.

"Locke," Haven sighed softly as he stretched out with her.

"What?"

"Give me my necklace back."

He smiled softly then, the man moved to kick his jeans back up to himself, retrieving it from the pocket of them. "It was too tight, this one is, to wrap around my wrist."

"That's because it doesn't belong to you," Haven retorted as she laid on her side beside the man.

He dangled it then, between them, the blue gem catching the light of the moon as it drifted through some f the still exposed rafters above them. Head propped up in his other hand, Locke questioned, "Why did you give this to Astra? To give to me? It made me think that you were alright. If I knew that she… What did she do? Haven?"

But she only moved to snatch it back from him, saying simply, "I'll tell you everything. But not right now."

Locke didn't release the chain, even as his girlfriend tugged. Looking into her now annoyed, yet still sleepy blue eyes, he insisted, "You're not going to Bosco-"

"Without you," Haven agreed, the words getting him to release her prized necklace. Clutching it now, she insisted to him, "I won't. I made a mistake. Trusting them. Astra. She tricked me. From now on wherever I go, you go. I promise."

"We'll fuck outta here," he offered then, watching as she looked over her necklace. "You did all that shit in Bosco on your own, practically. We'll make our own connections. Away from her. And-"

"No."

"Haven-"

"I have to talk to Astra," she told him simply. "In the morning. To understand everything. And then…depending on what she tells me-"

"But she tried to- Hey, Haven-"

"Shuddup." She didn't want to delve much further that night and, in order to insure this didn't happen, she'd reached out for him, wrapping an arm tightly around him and pulling him closer. Her necklace was still in her hand and she needed to set it somewhere safe, but for the moment, she just wanted to not think about much of anything for awhile. Burying her face in his skin felt like the best kind of escape. "I don't wanna talk anymore."

"I smell," he remarked as she nuzzled into his chest though, slowly, Locke was relaxing into this.

"I smell worse," she retorted.

"Tomorrow," he said, "we'll go down to the river and bathe. Before everyone arrives back. Okay?"

"'kay."

"Fuck, I was so worried about you." Bowing his head, Locke reveled in the feeling of her hair tickling his nose, reverent of how rare it was, for her to grant this allowance. Haven didn't like it as much, when he held her. It felt like a loss of control. It seemed to be a comfort then though, as her breathing began to even out, matching his, and Locke didn't know he'd been so tired, these past few days, but fuck. Fuck. "I should have come for you. I'm Haven."

"I know you would have," she muttered. "If I really needed you. But I didn't. So you didn't. It's okay."

"Did you at least get him? That Ewing guy or whatever?"

"Tomorrow, Locke." And she was shifting away then, him releasing her immediately. They were on the wrong sleeping bags and Locke felt like this was on purpose because Haven's wasn't nearly as comfortable, but as she kicked down his and snuggled into it, he found he wasn't too upset. Opening her palm, she stared down at her necklace for a moment before glancing over her shoulder at the man. "Okay?"

"Yeah," Locke agreed, falling to his back to stare up at the stars through the rafter. "Tomorrow."

But if Haven was finally able to relax and get a full night's rest, then Locke was in the same boat. He'd been tense, the entire time she was gone, but the feeling of her beside him, the warmth, was enough to finally bring him back down to his usual level. He was still conscious though, it seemed like, as every time she shifted in the night, he awoke, but it was only to stare down at her for a moment, be certain she really was still there, and then drift off once more.

Which was probably why, once he truly fell asleep, right before sunrise, Haven was able to slip away without him.

She stared down at him too, at first, of course, somewhat jealous of the man, as she always was. Locke always seemed so goofy and easygoing. Even after these past few weeks, which, fine, weren't as much of a hell for him, but still were significantly stressful. His form then, one arm stretched above his head, the other curled towards his chest, showed no signs of this. He was breathing easy, peaceful, and if she just laid there, beside him, would lull her right back to sleep.

But she couldn't do that now. She needed to speak to Astra. Without Locke. Yes, he was easygoing and goofy, but he didn't take well to people he abused that. Even without knowing all Astra had caused, she knew that he'd be ready to write the woman off. Never speak to her again. But Bosco meant too much to Haven. The people trapped within it.

It had been drowned out before, by her own aches and pans, but now, in the light of a new day, Haven was feeling back to herself some more. She'd saved those people. Her. And she could save more. She would save more.

No matter what.

So she resisted the urge to settle back against the man and instead made her way quietly down from the loft and over to her bag, where she dressed for the day. It felt so fucking good, to change into her own clothes. Clean clothes. Even though she still felt rather sticky and planned on taking Locke down to the creek the second he awoke, it still felt better than anything she'd been forced into back on the Ewing property.

Much.

Astra was up when Haven approached the house. Again, she was going over some kind of map, this time on the porch steps. She hadn't wanted to miss Locke and Haven, if they happened passed the house.

But Haven was coming for her, face void, and Astra was sure to jump up, defensive, at the blonde's approach.

"Where's your boyfriend?" Astra questioned and she didn't look so smug, like usual, that day. There was a trace of fear, maybe, in her voice, and she clearly didn't want to tussle again. "Haven? Because-"

"Believe me," the blonde retorted. "You don't want him here. To hear all of this. Because if he did, he'd do far fucking worse to you."

Astra was above her, as she still stood on the porch, and Haven subconciously could never allow such a thing. She hated, even, just the fact that the other woman was taller than her. As Haven bounded up the steps, the older woman took a step back, still cautious, but Haven made no motions towards attacking her. Just glared.

There was a holdover, perhaps, from her time on the silent side of things, because Haven didn't immediately launch into the tirade that she felt was appropriate, in that moment. Didn't lash out at the other woman. Just stood there, gaze smoldering, as her arms fell over her chest, crossed tightly.

Taking a breath, Astra recognized it was her who had to broach this subject.

"Firstly," she began, still tense, "I think that I should thank you for your excellent work freeing the-"

"Firstly," Haven corrected, "you should drop to your knees and beg me not to end you."

"Haven-"

"You sold me to fucking slavers."

"I did not," Astra defended with a frown. "I sold you to a man whose exact type you are. He wouldn't have sold you to someone else. You were never going to be in any real danger. If you'd have been gone more than a month, I would have gone to retrieve you. It's that simple."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Haven thought that she was going to be able to control her anger, that it was over and done with and she was going to be able to hear the other woman out, but no. She could feel it all bubbling up inside of her and maybe Locke should have come, to keep her in check. "What type? And you didn't run any of that shit by me. You just threw me to the wolves and-"

"Because I felt like you wouldn't agree to it," Astra said simply. "You seemed to regret it, the second I placed the branding on your arm. But I couldn't stay at the Ewings forever and needed you left there indefinitely. If I didn't sell you to him, he would have just taken you and kicked me off his property. The exchange rate was favorable and now I was able to afford to prepare for the slaves you freed. I got to test you out, as well. And you did what I wanted. More, honestly. I did slightly fear for your safety, but like I said, Ewing paid a decent amount for you. He wasn't going to do anything to damage his investment."

Haven eyed her then, heavily, before asking, "So you wanted me to be raped?"

This question felt heavy and inappropriate, somehow. Like the word being spoke in the otherwise picturesque setting. There were birds singing in the early morning and it wasn't too hot, that day, with a slight breeze rolling over the morning dew, and it just felt so jarring. For someone that slung around the thickest of curses, Haven found she disliked that word more than any other.

Astra seemed taken aback, perhaps just by the blasé way Haven had, and even took a step backward.

"N-No. Haven did he… I didn't-"

"You sold me," she retorted simply. "You sold me to a man because...why? I'm his...type? Is that what you said? Fuck you."

"Haven, I didn't… When I was a kid," Astra tried to explain then, "it was kind of a well-known thing. Among the families. If you get in a cute, blonde, blue eyed teenager… Ewing would pay for her. Yes, I could assume what… But you said that you had been there before, which him, and that you knew the risks and… I knew that you wouldn't want to stay, without me, so I thought to not tell you and that you would recover and do what you needed to. And you have. But I should have said something, before I left. It was...difficult for me to-"

"Don't."

"It was. Haven. It was difficult to-"

"Ewing's a piece of shit. His whole family is." Haven took a step towards the woman and, again, Astra found herself tensing, defensive. "But you're supposed to be reformed. Separated from all that. But you still think exactly like them, don't you? You knew that Ewing would buy me, but you weren't sure if I would go along with it. If I knew that. So you didn't tell me. Because to you, I'm just expendable. Disposable."

"That's not true."

"Just like every other one of them. Us." She looked to her forearm, but the marking was gone. Shaking her head slightly, she said, "In my guild? You'd be excommunicated. For pulling something like this. You risked my life, Locke's life because you knew he'd come after me, because it made your job easier. You gave no value to your teammates lives and recklessly abandoned them when you saw fit. My father… The current master… They'd bar you from the guild for this."

Astra swallowed then, looking stricken for a moment, before resolve found her and she retorted simply, "This ain't your guild. Haven. This isn't Fairy Tail. This is a group of people who will do anything to save aid in the operation of freeing Bosco from it's current regime. There are no allies within it, no bonds. We all are working towards a singular common goal and we'll do anything ot achieve it. We're not a guild; and we never will be."

It was with a sneer, fully upon the other woman now, who'd back up against the porch railing while the blonde only glared up into her face, that Haven retorted, "Yeah, I know. But it goes both ways, Astra. Don't forget it."

She turned then, to walk away, but after she'd started down the steps, Astra called out a weary, "Haven..."

When the blonde stopped and turned back to look at her, the older woman swallowed some before speaking.

"I just… You're okay, aren't you?" Astra questioned then and her voice sounded different. Separate from the void, aloof tone she usually took. She actually sounded concerned. "I...should have put more thought and precautions into-"

"He didn't touch me." Haven started walking once more. "So don't worry about it."

The conversation felt dead and, on the off chance Astra tried to restart it once more, Haven insured it stayed that way by, without warning, using her Lightning Body magic to zap right across the field, and up through the cracks in the barn ceiling before landing, on her feet, atop the loft before her sleeping boyfriend. The momentary static buzz did make him stir a bit, but Haven kicking at his side was what truly forced him to awaken.

He started to gripe at her, out of custom, but she was leaning down some, to make a face at him, and he couldn't keep the anger up for long. He just laughed and she smiled, offering him her hand.

"You stink," she told him simply as he found his footing. Not giving him a chance to return the assessment, she merely insisted, "Let's go wash off."

Astra had disappeared from the porch when they walked passed it, but Haven only held Locke's hand tightly, dragging him along with little concern for the other woman. She'd asked, as they left the barn, for him to tell her all about what he'd done while she was gone, and though he did make a bit of a face at the request, he agreed on the condition she shared more of her trials with him afterwards.

Even when they were young kids, Haven had always found Locke's voice either extremely soothing or extremely grating. There was no in between. There was also no noticeable different between the two. Rather, it was all dependent on Haven's own mood. Considering she was still reeling from telling Astra off as well as remnants of her magic lingering, his voice was welcome and she wasn't really listening, she hardly ever could when he rambled, but she enjoyed the resonance.

He walked with confidence now, Locke did, through the forest and when he began to be the one to lead, Haven let it go. She had to give into him sometimes.

"You want first?" Locke asked as, after they both dropped their bags by the creek's edge, he took to digging through his before producing a used bar of soap. But as Haven only stood over him, tugging her shirt over her head, she had a better suggestion.

"Why," she asked, "can't we both?"

Locke laughed, sounding uncomfortable, but more in a nervous way. "I thought you'd tell me about Bosco. While we bathed."

"I can later." When he stood, she was quick to pull him closer, reaching down to tug his shirt up and over his head. "Can't I?"

"But you will, won't you?"

"Locke-"

"I want to know," he defended as he allowed his shirt to be stripped away, but ducked away from her when she tried to unbuckle his jeans. "Haven, I'm serious."

"I'm serious," she insisted then with a frown. "I want to not think about it, okay? For a bit. When everyone gets here, that's all we're going to talk about and I just...wanna forget, okay? About it. Please? Just help me forget, Locke."

She always chopped his name incorrectly, adding an extra emphasis on the end, when she was trying to entice him, but if felt different this time. Strange. Still, he found himself nodding and even laughed, softly, when she reached for him again.

It had been awhile.

There was clearly more to Bosco though. There always had been. And Locke seemed tired of being equally the most important person in her life while also somehow staying completely in the dark about one of the most important events.

So they talked about it.

Haven felt even better, once she was cleaned up, and after shrugging some clothes on again, she and Locke sat together by the creek bank, him skipping water across it as she tried to find the words to explain.

"The slave trade is as bad as they say, Locke." She was actually supposed to be combing out her hair, but stalled some, as she just bounced the brush around in one of her hands, internally counting the skips each of his pebbles made in the water. "It's...different though. Than I thought. Or at least where I was. Have been. At the Ewing's. It's...what they say it is. You don't mean anything, to them. To anyone. You're, like, branded and then you just work. And I did. Work."

"At what?" he asked softly, hesitating before he threw his next pebble. Glancing down at her, he asked, "Haven?"

"Kitchen shit. Cleaning and shit. The first time was...different, because I wasn't there long, but this time was just kitchen duty. Mostly."

"This guy...bought you for that? He needed someone and...Astra just decided to-"

"It's different. Than just a regular household." Then she frowned. "I mean, I've never been to one in Bosco, but I think they just buy a single person or two, maybe. Probably. But on a property his size and with the amount of people in his household, Ewing...needs a lot of people. The men worked his fields. And the rest of us worked in the house, caring for his wife and daughters."

"What happened to them?"

"I ran them off." Gripping the brush tightly in her left hand then, she said, "I could...still tranform. With the branding. I channeled my demon shit and scared them up into the mountain that surrounded the manor. His wife and daughters."

"What about Ewing? Did you fuck him up?"

"No." Her grip relaxed. "He was out."

Locke tossed a pebble then, but it only sunk. To the woman, he said, "Did he hurt you?" When Haven didn't immediately answer, he said, "Like...beat you? Or something? Since you didn't have your powers? Did anyone? Because… I know that you can look out for yourself. Haven. Of course you can. But when we lose our magic...and I know yours means so much to you. Astra's a fucking bitch. I dunno what we're gonna do, but… Fucking bitch."

He hadn't let her answer, before, but Haven felt better without telling him everything. Just mostly.

"We're not going anywhere, Locke," she told him. When this got an incredulous look, she said, "Astra sucks. What she did sucked. And I haven't forgiven her for it. And I won't forget about it. So you don't either. But… I think that I can do this. Here. I didn't know what it was before, that I needed to do. How to do it. I kind of got a feel for it though, while I was there. And it was thanks to Astra and her shitty plan."

"Haven-"

"I was one of them," she insisted to him. "I am one of them. And I can be again. I just go in, I get them to revolt against the family holding them and-"

"I'm not letting you just-"

"Then you'll come with me." Dropping the brush, she reached for his hand. As he dropped the muddy pebbles, the space was only filled with Haven's palm as she said, "I don't fucking know. Alright? How it'll all work. Astra's the one that figures it all out. She's the one that knows everyone there. If we wait until you and I are able to localize everything, then… We'll just never be able to do all that, alright? This isn't a guild. This isn't a family. It was hard for me, too, the first time I left home. To realize that. That not everyone has the best interest of the group at heart. If they gotta be selfish, let them be selfish. We'll be selfish too. Because I want this. I want to help people. And we don't need any more family, Locke, to get that done. We're each others family. Right?"

She'd shifted, or her hands had, to clutching his bicep now as she stared up at him with her big, blue eyes and Locke nodded because of course they were. They always had been. She was as much family as anyone who shared his name.

"Yeah, Hav." He brought up a thumb, to brush it across her lips, the woman turning her head a bit at the motion, but this only made a smile spread across his own. "We're more than that. You're a part of me."

Haven released him, suddenly, before shoving at his arm. When his grin grew at that, she shoved him harder, with a bit of a spark.

"Shut up," she ordered as, finally, she moved to pick up the hairbrush and actually do something about her hair. "Idiot."

"I'm never going to trust her again," he said, glancing over his shoulder, as if fearful of the other woman looming. "Astra."

"You shouldn't have in the first place. We're expendable to her. She saw an opportunity to have someone on the inside and thought it would be better if I didn't know about it beforehand, regardless of what that meant for my well-being." Haven was struggling then, with a tangle in her hair and was bending over awkwardly, tugging heavily at the brush. Around a contorted growl, she added, "Nothin' I wouldn't have done."

"No."

"No?"

"No," Locke insisted as, this time, his pebble skipped straight across the stream. "You're a lotta things, Haven. And you were a lot more, back when we were kids. But you'd never double cross someone that badly."

"Maybe you just didn't know me as well as you think you did."

He made a sound then, in the back of his throat, before retorting, "Maybe you didn't either."

They had to go back eventually as Locke, who hadn't eaten most of the previous day, felt his stomach rumble and joked weakly about needing the metal tin. Haven retorted that he'd hardly had any real food in there and she was starved for some.

"I'll take you out," Locke told her then, sounding a bit more serious. "After we have the big meeting or whatever about what to do next, me and you will head back into the closest city and I'll get you whatever you want."

"With what money?"

"I haven't blown it all on groceries," he insisted to her. "My father always says that a man should have some money stored away, no matter what."

"He says that? Or Elf says that?"

"I don't think Elf has any money to store away, so-"

"Oh, no," Locke sighed some when, just as they were arriving back on the property and out of the forest, they could see someone, in the distance, rushing towards them. Xavier. He was sprint, full out, headed right for them, and Haven just wasn't up for it. That day. Not after the past few.

So she raised her hand, before he could get to her, shooting off a bolt of lightning that, while not particularly strong, was enough to jolt the teen and cause him to seize up, falling flat on his face.

"Haven," her boyfriend complained then, jogging over to the boy. "You didn't have to do that."

She came over as well, much slower, but also with a bit of a worried frown. To Xavier, she merely said, "I didn't want you to tackle me."

"Why," he groaned as he sat up, feeling singed, "would I have done that?"

Haven looked to Locke who gave her a shrug as, he too, had felt this was imminent.

"Anyways," the teen went on as, after a beat, he got no real answer and only shoved to his feet. "Richard sent me on ahead, yesterday, to hike into the nearby town and do some shopping. There's a good number of people that are displaced and uncertain about where to go from here. Astra says we're going to have a meeting, once Richard and Shae arrived, just the few of us, and talk things over."

"Yeah," Locke agreed, reaching over to gently pat the other guy on the back once he was on his feet once more. "I figured."

"I think it's so cool though, Haven," Xavier insisted to the woman then, all transgressions forgiven as he said, "that you helped free all those people. Everyone else was so surprised, but… I knew you could do it."

Haven looked away, at his praise, not finding herself able to bask in it as easily as she once was. Instead, she told him, "They all helped themselves. More than I helped them. Really."

Locke noted his girlfriend's strange tone and, quickly changing the subject, questioned the younger guy, "What kinda food did you bring back? Some good meat? Say, if you go start gathering firewood now, I bet I can get us a big bonfire going, to welcome everyone, once they get here."

"You think so?" Xavier asked, eyes wide. At Locke's nod, he was sure to add, "Will you have time? Between setting up all the tents?'

"Tents?"

"Richard had me get a buncha tents too," the boy assured him. "For all the-"

"We'll set up the tents," Haven assured the teen. "Just get started on the firewood, huh?"

"Remember," Locke called after Xavier when, at the blonde's agreement, he took off in a spring, "you need an assortment of pieces; big and small." To Haven though, Locke remarked, "We'll put together the tents, huh?"

"Well, you will," she decided. "All you've done is sit on your lazy ass and miss me. You need to learn to contribute, Locke."

"Ha ha."

"I'm more of a supervisor," she insisted to him. "I always have been."

Xavier had been a bit of a pack mule it seemed, having utilized a large cart, not unlike Titania, to lug all of his purchases back to base. It sat neatly stacked before the house where, inside, they could see who they guessed to be Astra move around inside, but neither much wanted to deal with that.

Locke set to work on the tents while Haven scoured the nonperishable Xay hadn't already taken inside. She tossed a bag of chips at her boyfriends head before, after rifling through his pack and locating his red sunglasses, slipping them over her eyes and taking to what she'd declared.

Supervising.

And fine, helping him out some too.

Locke was rather useless without her.

They could sense the group of people as they approached before they saw or heard them. Locke stood to attention, after finishing up with the last tent he was working on. He was nervous and Haven could feel it. But whatever she was feeling over the whole thing stayed hidden, locked away behind his shades, which she used to eye the others behind, when they started to trickle into base.

Shae was leading the way it seemed, instead of Richard, and as she instructed those in the front of group to make themselves at home and claim any of the spread out tents that now speckled the front of the property, she also seemed to be making her way over to Locke and Haven.

As she returned Locke's nod, it was to Haven that she spoke, taking in a deep breath before remarking, "Good job. On getting everything taken care of at Ewing's place."

Haven had tensed, at her approach, getting ready to either defend her actions or even, really, the fact it was her who'd gotten to take the action. Even at the statement Shae provided, Haven was prepared for a tone to be attached to it. Of sarcasm or snark. The standard, from when she was younger, and returned successful from a task her father had either given her or was perceived as doing so, by the other teens in the hall. She was ready to have to turn her head, comeback with her own snotty remark.

No.

Now she had to swallow some of her own pride and offer back, "Thanks. I hope you're there next time."

But Shae only leveled her gaze before assuring the other woman, "I will be."

As more people arrived, Locke took to walking among them, checking in on any of those that he'd cared for the evening before as well as checking in on any who hadn't been poorly off enough to need his services prior, but might now. Haven, however, found herself scanning the crowd, recognizing faces here or there before, finally, landing upon the one she wasn't aware she was seeking.

Neeve looked so much better, washed and at least somewhat rested. Her hair cascaded down her back now, having escaped the tight bun, and when she smiled at the blonde, it actually seemed to almost reach her eyes.

Almost.

"I didn't think you'd stay around," Haven found herself admitted, a strange look crossing her face when the other woman came over to her. "I mean, I didn't have any reason to think that, but-"

"I won't for long," Neeve assured the woman. "I wanted to rest up. Before the journey back home. To Caelum. The island is not far. My daughter… It has been a long two years. She was so little when I left, I worry… I need my strength, for the journey home, the thought of my family awaiting me…"

Haven nodded easily, not rightly knowing that true feeling, but understanding it, maybe, from another point of view.

When Locke found himself soothing the chaffing wounds of Jed, from where he'd been bound, down in the dungeon, that Haven found herself making her way over. The two men were seated in the grass, before a tent, Locke leaning over the other man.

"This is the guy I who saved me, down in the dungeon," Haven bragged the man up with ease and Locke glanced up at her. Only for a second though, as he seemed very concern with the wounds on the man's wrists. The problem Locke was running into was that, while his magic felt limitless in the realm of healing, the caveat was that the more powerful the healing spell he used, the quicker his power was drained. He had to conserve it to ensure he adequately the twenty or so amassed. Not to mention, just in case something unexpected happened as the day drug on, he didn't want to find himself completely drained either.

Being a medic was a fine line. Though Locke understood the basic concept of triage, he personally had never been in a station that required it.

"Oh, yeah?" he did remark to the blonde though as Jed was wincing, heavily, at the searing pain of the medic's healing spell. To the other man, Locke offered, "Gotta set you up real good then, I guess. Saving my girlfriend and all."

"Didn't save her," Jed insisted through a pained gasp as Locke finished up.

"I felt saved," Haven insisted and, as Locke sat back, onto his butt, in the grass, taking his own gasps of clean air, hoping to clear his head some. As he glanced up at the blonde, she told him, "He gave me water."

"She's rarely appreciative," Locke relayed to Jed. "So she must have really needed it."

"Are you sticking around here?" Haven asked the man who was still gritting his teeth. Hoping to distract him from this, she insisted, "Or are you going somewhere else? Are you from Fiore? Or-"

"Joya," he answered easily. "But… There's nothing there for me now."

"Then stay here," Haven insisted to him. "Like right here. With us. We need new members."

"Haven," Locke cautioned then, finding her to be a bit too much in that situation, but Jed only bowed his head some.

"I thought of it last night," he admitted softly. "But I have no magic to offer or-"

"We just need bodies, right now," Haven insisted to him. "Someone's gotta fill up all these tents."

"Rest up," Locke insisted to the man instead as he shoved to his feet. "I'll come back around tomorrow, to check on your wounds. And be cautious tonight, okay? During the meal? Refeeding is a thing. Pace yourself. It's going to be a long adjustment period, but if you stick around, I'll make sure that you get through it just fine."

Haven grinned at Jed, in parting, but just as quickly was following along her boyfriend who she deterred from his next stop in.

"You working on some bedside manner?" she asked as she made him go over to the porch, where Xay had set up coolers full of drinks. Unfortunately, and to the loud complaints of Richard, none were alcoholic. He'd actually gone out to remedy this himself, the older man had insisted upon that discovery, but so far hadn't been back and, well, they all just assumed he was getting drunk at a nearby bar and found themselves better for it.

"I was brought here to heal people up when they come back from Bosco," he answered simply as he took the bottle of soda when the woman pushed it onto him. For a flash of a second, his finger turned to some sort of flat, metallic sliver, which he used to pop the cap off his drink. Locke only downed half of it, in one gulp, before giving the rest to his girlfriend. As she took her own sip, he added, "I gotta learn how to comfort them and all that."

"I thought you were brought here to make sure I don't eclipse everyone else and just become the supreme ruler of Bosco."

"Yeah, Erza mentioned that too."

Someone did arrive at camp, around midday, when there was a big roast of weenies and other meats over the bonfire, but it wasn't Richard. Rather, it was Luka, all alone, without her men, but with her cap still perched on her head, walking with the same arrogance she had upon her ship. As she made her way across the ground, it was with little care for any of the things going on around her and, rather, crossed the property with purpose and bounded right up into the house without so much as a word to anyone.

"How much do you know about her?" Locke asked Haven, but when she shook her head, he sought out Shae, where she was speaking with some of those amassed, and questioned her the same.

"She's Astra's friend," Shae told him simply. "I'm hardly that close with Astra, honestly. None of us are, really."

"You're just all people, not a guild, yeah, I know. I've heard."

But Luka was still inside when Astra, finally, made her appearance. Even then, it was only to welcome those gathered, assure them she would be removing their marks, and explain that while anyone was welcome to stay long enough to get their bearings, the intent of their group was to overthrow the evil practices in Bosco; interested parties need only remain.

Following this however, she called out to Shae, Xavier, Haven, and Locke, informing them she wished to speak to them inside for a moment.

Luika, already, was sitting before the spread out map Astra had been obsessing over for the past day. But while Locke glared at the older woman, she only moved to roll up the map, offering over her shoulder, "We don't need that right now. I want to go over what was accomplished with the Ewings and what wasn't."

"What wasn't?" Haven complained as they all stood around the table. Tossing up a sparking arm, she insisted, "I fucking freed the slaves he was holding! What else is there?"

"Ewing," Astra replied simply. "And his family. You allowed them to live."

"What the fuck was I supposed to do?" Haven asked with a frown. "Kill them?"

Haven kinda of said it as a joke. Sort of. An outrageous statement, at least. But when she glanced around, she found only Locke and Xay seemed as incredulous as her.

"Are you serious?" the blonde asked, taking in their gaze. "You want me to fucking kill people?"

"We don't," Locke retorted, "do that."

"You didn't do that. In your little guild, fine." Astra wasn't fully giving them her attention then. She seemed nervous, to be having this conversation. As she fished her cigarettes out of her pocket, she took in a breath before saying, "Here? You're going to have to start."

"Fuck you." Haven snorted. "You want me to, what? Execute all of the Ewings? And then what, Astra? Huh? You want blood on my fucking hands when you wouldn't have any on your own."

"I'm part of this, aren't I? I took you there, didn't I?"

"You didn't stay," Haven insisted. "You didn't get your hands dirty. You ran away. You fled. You want people to do more than you're willing to do."

Astra was lighting up then, cigarette dangling and lighter drug up to her mouth, but her eyes were on Haven, smoldering and angry. Locke, even though he wasn't wholly against anything Haven had just said (or her tone) felt like he had to at least intercede a bit.

"We're not," he insisted, "killing people. Purposely killing people. How do you so easily jump from whatever stupid attempts you were making before to out right murder?"

"Murder?" Astra plucked the lit cigarette from her mouth as she said, "Is it murder, Haven? To kill Ewing? And his wife? And his daughters? When they perpetrate what they do? After what he did to you? Tried to do to you? That's murder?"

Locke frowned, looking then to his girlfriend. "What did he try to do to you?"

But Haven only continued to glare at Astra as she said, "I fucking freed the people he was holding captive. That's enough."

"It's not," Luka finally spoke up from where, as the only one seated, she was leaning back in her chair, "enough."

As Haven turner her eyes of accusation onto her though, Shae spoke up, looking rather uncomfortable though she did nod her head in agreement.

"It's not," she said. When Haven turned to glare at her though, Shae insisted, "You did a good job, fine, yes. You rescued people. But Ewing's just going to get more of them."

"And," Haven insisted, "I would rescue them again. And again. Until-"

"The see the err of their ways?" Astra snorted. "You're the one told me it's a foolish thing to even try, right? Convincing the civilians they were in the wrong? And you wanna try and make the ringleaders believe so? It doesn't work that way and you know it."

"You got lucky," Luka offered simply. "I heard some of them talking. About what all went down. Ewing was out and you struck. Good. Fine. If he were there and you had to lead your revolt, then what? The low number of causalities you had is fine, but so what? Will hardly be how the rest are."

"What the fuck do you know?" Haven retorted to the woman, but Luka only laughed, humorless and dry, as she slammed the front legs of her wooden chair back on the floor.

"Nothin'," she agreed. "Just do deliveries."

"There's other ways," Locke said simply then, more to Shae. "We can...run them all off. The masters or whatever. We'll go from estate to estate and-"

"What would happen," the woman retorted, "if someone went from guild to guild here? Destroying them? The capital would step in. We don't have the support of the people in this. At all. The kingdom. If we're going to do this, there's going to be deaths. You had to have known that going in."

"There's a difference," Haven interjected, "with people dying in the heat of combat and executing someone once you've won."

"What have you won?" Astra questioned her. "Haven? What? I'm not undercutting what you've done, but it's hardly even blip on what we still have before us. And I am not angry that you didn't execute the Ewings. I'm...unsure if that would have even been the right move. Luka and Shae, you're both right, he will only acquire more slaves and… But once we kill one of five main families… We have to prepare. For that. It's coming, it will have to, but that would be all out war. A declaration. Right now, we have an isolated incident that Ewing will attempt to cover up."

"You need to get word in, then," Shae told her. "To those being held by the other families. Even in the lesser. There was a slave uprising and escape. The Kingdom will hide it, but word travels fast. You'd be surprised. We have one or two others happen-"

"I'll go back in." Haven spoke without thinking. All she'd just gone through would haunt her for awhile, but she felt challenged, before, about the execution thing, and was ready to jump in again, to prove herself. "Right now. And-"

"Ewing," Astra replied, "knows you. Now. If he didn't before, now he always will. And I don't know if he thinks that you were a part of the uprising or not, but both you and I have to lay low from Bosco for awhile before of it."

"I'll go," Shae was quick to say, before Haven had a chance at a rebuttal. "No matter how many of these fucker I have to kill. Wherever you think is best next. I'll...go and do whatever Haven did and-"

"You'd wanna hit another providence," Luka offered with a shrug. "But that would involve moving away from the coast. Not an easy escape. Or, you keep it in the providence and hit a lesser house. Ewing will be on high patrol though, having all the lesser houses running checks. It would be difficult to get someone in-"

"I'm still," Haven cut in, "going back. To wherever."

"I just said-" Astra started, but she choked, on her smoke when purple tiles appeared before Haven and then, there she was, staring back at herself. An exact copy.

The other Astra though didn't have her same posture and, throwing up an arm again, she insisted, "I can be whoever the fuck I wanna be! And I can do this through those damn marks too."

Her transformation magic had surprised everyone, but it was Xay, who'd been silent, letting the women (and Locke, hash it out) who began to jump up and down.

"That's so cool!" he insisted with a bright grin. "I wanna go too! If they are! To Bosco! The three of us will-"

"Haven's not going anywhere," Locke, once again, came in with his serious tone. As his arms folded over his chest, purple tiles appeared before the second Astra only to reveal Haven once more, who promptly punched his arm. Through a grimace, he insisted, "Not without me."

"I haven't said anyone," Astra, recovered, remarked with a glare, "is going anywhere."

"You don't exactly tell people, do you?" Haven retorted. "When they're going somewhere? Or when they're staying?"

Having to turn her head, Astra took a puff of her cigarette, silent for a moment before saying, "I'm not ready. To send anyone back into the field. When it happens, it happens. I just, for now, want us all on the same page. We need more members. Understand? I don't know when we'll be ready, for a full on assault, but we'll have to be able to go up against Bosco. When the time comes. If we can get uprisings to start inside the kingdom and then begin liberating it city by city…" She shook her head. "I'm getting ahead of myself. Of course. Right now, I want you all to assess the people we have outside. In the tents. They're a good start. Those who can help. And I want you to all know I'm going to keep up my tabs and connections, in Bosco, and plan our next more. But for now… Rest. Haven. And prepare, the rest of you. Tomorrow's a new day."

There felt like there was more to be said. But Astra just smoked and while Shae and Haven both eyed one another, no one else seemed to be able to find any words. It was then though, from outside, they heard some commotion.

"Piss poor party you got going," Richard's loud voice carried from outside. "Much rather get pissed, eh?

And he'd...adequately shopped for such a thing. He came carrying two crates, in his burly arms, stacked atop one another, with bottles of alcoholic drinks. As he set them by the coolers, the others streamed out of the house and the potential members, weary, came over as well.

It was a strange transition, as Luka faded into the night, no doubt back to her ship and Astra took to standing up on the porch, smoking and observing. Haven felt a slight pull, when she saw Xay snag a drink for himself, but resisted the urge to tell him to put it back. It wasn't her place. Shae stood nearby, silent, but watching the others as closely as the blonde.

The sun was setting now, as the scent of the bonfire and roasting weenies had to compete with ale, and the night was young, but it felt poignant, in a way Haven wasn't familiar with, as a hush fell over everyone and they were existing, a lot of them, all at once, together, no doubt thinking of the same thing, or at least tentatively. She imagined some people were considering their families, how to get back to them, if they should get back to them, while the rest of them thought of Bosco, in some way or another, and Haven didn't like crowds much. Or at least, it never ended well, when she was around one too long. Drinking and carrying on. But there was hardly enough alcohol to get drunk off and she only felt slightly buzzed.

Richard went up the steps of the porch, just for a moment, and Haven watched as Astra whispered something to the man when he leaned over, before nodding at her words. Then he was bounding right back down the steps, a wide grin on his face as he called the others to attention.

"I think I've introduced myself to most of you here, huh?" he called as he looked out at all of them, that same, aloof grin on his face as always. But his eyes, they constantly seemed to, looked far more serious. "Bearded guy at the dock, greeted ya all? I meant what I said there. We fed ya and put ya up for the night and, if you wanted to head out on your own way, we gave ya the chance. But those of you who came back here with us, who are here with us right now, And we want ya with us. For the long haul. You wanna head out tomorrow? The next day? The one after that? How could we say no. But you'll stay here with us… See, it's bigger than us all, ain't it? What's going on there? In Bosco? I remember bein' a little boy and hearin' 'bout how, if you're out too late, out too far in the sea, then… The slavers'll get ya! And it was scary, I'll admit, but you grow older and it don't seem to real, does it? From here, in our safety and our protection. It'd be easy, wouldn't it? To go back to your lives now? Oh, you'd wake up sometimes, thinking about it, what happened over there, and all cold with your own sweat, cryin' for your gods. But you'll find sleep again. 'course you will. Longer you go from it, the more you forget. Harder to remember.

"But imagine it. I bet you can, right now. 'fore you go away and lose it forever, just imagine it with me, huh? What it was like? When you thought you'd never have this again? Never taste this again? Being able to go, to do, whatever you want… There's people over there who still feel that way. Who, without your help, will always feel that way. I ain't guiltin' ya into goin' back. Can't say I would, after all you've all gone through. But…what if you did? What if you helped us change Bosco? So you don't have to worry, wake up cryin' to your gods, about how you don't wanna go back, you never wanna go back. We wanna make it to where nobody ever does. And it's only with your help that way can do that."

There were some nods in the crowd, some who turned away, after Richard spoke, but Haven, even though she'd hardly finished her drink, found herself yawning some, into it, and Locke only nudged her arm gently before nodding to the barn.

While the other mingled and drank, discussing the possibility of joining up, the newest (for now) arrivals found themselves settling back up in their loft in the barn. Haven, once more, fell into his sleeping bag, but Locke only chuckled, cuddling right up to her.

They could still hear the others, outside, especially Richard and his too loud voice, but as Locke rested his head against the side of hers, Haven only sighed, shutting her eyes.

"Have," he whispered though, getting a slight grunt out of her. "It's not too late, you know? To go back and tell Erza this group is fucked and we'll have to do this all a different way. She'd understand, if you explained it right."

"It is too late though, Locke." Haven, with a yawn, lifted a hand up into the air, clenching her fist slowly. "We've already started. You know I don't walk away from things I've started."

"Yeah," he agreed dryly. "And that's what got you killed."

"That's what led to me getting revived and unlocking a new power." Haven's arm fell slowly. "The gauntlet wasn't what I was chosen to do, Locke. This is. I can feel it. I can't walk away from this. Not now. Not ever. You won't be able to either, once you travel across the border. See how things are over there. Astra's fucked. Bosco's fucked. But I'm fucked too. I can't make you see things, the way I see them, but… Just believe me. I don't want anything to get in the way of our future now. But we can't have one, I won't let myself have one, until I make sure that everyone stuck in Bosco has a chance at one too."

He was silent for a moment, letting this fall over them, before whispering, "You want a future with me?"

"Shut up, Locke. Fucking idiot."

"Marry me?" he questioned. "Have a kid with me. Two or three. Be together for the rest of our lives. All that?"

"You're so annoying."

He shifted away from her then, falling onto his back as well, to stare through the hole in the rafter, up at the stars. Softly, he agreed, "I want our future too, Haven. And I know this is part of it for you. But I won't watch you die again."

"Who's dying?" she questioned. "I'm gunning for Queen of that country before this is all over."

Locke made a face, giving in then as his eyes slipped shut. "What would that make me? King?"

"No," she told him simply. "Just the same sucker you always are. I'm the fucking King. And Queen. My own best soldier. Military general. The only person you can trust to do a good job, after all, is yourself."

Locke rolled his eyes. "Consort then. I'd be your consort."

"Concubine, maybe."

"Haven-"

"I'll be in high demand, Locke. I'm a king. A queen. You don't marry for love, you marry for power. Queen of Fiore won't know what hit her."

"I'm glad you're feeling better, at least," he offered before, turning his head, he asked, "You are feeling better, aren't you, Haven?"

She frowned, laying back then as she thought about his words. Rather than just answering foolhardily, she found the truth falling out easier that night as she said, "I dunno, Locke. I...feel better when I'm with you. At least."

He was quick to shut his eyes, knowing giving her any sort of luck would result in a quick denial and moment ruiner. Still, he did say, "Then I guess I better stay by your side. Whether you go back over the border or not, huh?"

"You are my doctor. If you advise it-"

"I," he assured her, "require it."

She fell asleep not soon after that, Haven did, and Locke was the one that time, to be certain not to wake the woman when he climbed down from the loft and ventured back towards the house. The others were still drinking and carrying on. Shae, even, called out to him, but he only continued on into the house where he knew she'd be, where she seemed to always be; scheming.

Astra seemed surprised, when he knocked at the girls' bedroom door, and when she answered, seemed to be with a bit of unease.

"I need," he told her darkly, "to talk to you."

"Right now?" she questioned. "Everyone's right outside and-"

"Right," he insisted, "now."

"Me and your girlfriend have already spoken."

"I don't," he insisted, "care."

Astra sighed, loudly, but as she took a step back, to allow him entrance to the room, Locke only came close enough to glare in her face.

"We could do this," he insisted to her, eyes dark, "without you. Astra. My guild… If I went to my Master and insisted that we needed to sink all of the guild into this, if they all got involved… We wouldn't even need you."

She was taken aback by this claim, frowning some, and found the only recourse to be retorting, "Then do it, Locke. I-"

"No." He even shook his head. "Because this ain't their fight. This isn't any of their passions or interest. Maybe they'd care, the more they learn about Bosco. I'm learning to, anyways, and I haven't even been yet. But this has to be done delicately, right? And by people who know things, huh? So that, even if you destroy the main families, it doesn't all implode in your face. Alright. I get that. And I don't even think that you're an evil, fucking psycho. I think you do care about freeing people, from your kingdom, and righting your wrongs. That's great. But you've crossed my girlfriend, once, just to what? Prove a point? Throw your weight around? Don't fucking do it again. Because she might let it go, she might know how to work with people she hates, but I don't. I can't. If you do something to hurt her again, leave her vulnerable and without protection…"

"You'll," she challenged, "kill me?"

And he let out a huff then, a large one, through his nose, but Astra was undeterred.

Instead, she told the man simply, "You're right. Locke. Anyways. About your guild. I'm sure they could wreck havoc on Bosco. Fine. Maybe even take down the kingdom. Yes. But then what? It's just like you said, this has to be done delicately and by people who care and wish the best for the kingdom. Not people with no knowledge of the history, no ability to lead what remains after the last, big overthrow. But tell me then, Locke, are you passionate about it? Do you care about it? And it's people? Are you like me? Or even your girlfriend? Were you wronged by it and now want to make sure others aren't as well? Willing to put your life on the line to save the life of others? Or are you here just because of her? Haven? Because honestly, Locke, I'll tell you this one last time, if you're hearts not in this, if you're mind's not, then give up. Go home. Wait for your girlfriend to come back to you. Because this kingdom will destroy you if you're not strong enough. And from what I've seen so far-"

"Shut up," Locke finally cut her off, still glaring. Still, he looked off as he said, "Just don't fuck Haven over again and we won't even have an issue, alright?"

The woman nodded though, as he turned, she only insisted, "She doesn't need you to defend her, Locke. Or fight her wars. But you already know that, don't you?"

He knew that he didn't want to be around Astra any longer.

When he got outside, Xay was on him immediately, clearly having drunk his fair share and insisting that they hang out. Shae was nearby too, clearly wanting to talk about the night's events. But it was Richard, who came to toss an arm over the man's shoulders, that got his attention the best.

"Quite the night, ain't it?" he insisted as he walked with the other guy, tugging him close. "Almost magical. Already got some people to agree that they are definitely stickin' around, to see what we got to offer them. This is just the beginnin', eh, Locke? A new one. A fresh start. A second chance. We'll be a real group again in no time. And then..."

Locke ducked out of the other guy's hold, letting him stagger off to go bother someone else, but he found his gaze fixed, over at where the barn set, no signs of stirring from within. It to it though, before he went to rejoin the party, allowing his girlfriend his rest, that he agreed, "And then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so that's it for the kinda introductory arc. Kinda get a feel for the tone and main set of characters. We'll have a revolving door of minor characters throughout, but the core group's not gonna fluctuate much. Onto the next, which is A Call to Arms.


	4. A Call to Arms: Part I

It was early in the morning, but the base camp was buzzing with activity. People were filtering about, forming a small queue up to the porch where, as with each morning, whoever was on kitchen duty was doling out portions for breakfast. Following this quick meal, most everyone was expected to meet in the open space of the yard where, in the dawn, before it got too hot, Xavier led some simple exercise training.

He was rather proud of this job. Shae smiled along with him when Astra handed the reigns of training the newbies over to him. The teen took it very seriously and it was endearing, to most everyone, to see how intense he could be over finally having a job.

And, the best part, since he had to get up so early in the morning to do it, he never got put on patrol duty.

Shae participated, some days, in Xay's little workout. It wasn't too strenuous, considering he was leading men and women who'd just been released from rather drastic conditions, but it felt like a good, low impact way to start the day. Plus...she found the teen rather endearing. He was very passionate, about their mission, but had been unable to provide real support in the new direction the group was going. She was thankful that Astra had found use for the boy, if only for his sake.

Astra herself seemed scarce in those days. Not that this was much different. Shae imagined she saw her the most, as they were still bunking together through technicality, but even that felt like it was coming to an end. It was nicer, in the summer heat, to sleep out under the stars with the newer members. And given Astra's shadiness as of late, she didn't want to seem too buddy-buddy with the woman. Not to mention, she found herself as taking watch a bit more often now, as Richard had run off for a week or so, back to his guild, to rally supplies and support, while Astra was out (obviously) and Xay was insistent his early mornings meant he must get to be the same (though she frequently found him goofing off with some of the younger guys).

That left her.

And, well, Locke and Haven.

They didn't quite want to put any of the newbies on patrol, given they were, now, probably the most wanted people on the property. Haven and Locke though, with the introduction of these new bodies, found themselves not quite seasoned vets, but certainly no longer the newest members.

They fell somewhere in the middle.

And were perfect for patrol.

The pair didn't seem to mind it much, when their shifts came up. Though Haven might grumble some, Locke only smiled through this. And they did it together. Even if this required doubling up on a shifts. Getting to walk around the edges of camp, away from the others, was nice enough for Shae, but she imagined it was even better with a partner.

Thought things felt rather uneasy at first, with some of the new people disappearing from day to day, this eventually evened out and, as Astra weighed the situation in Bosco, a new peace was found over the camp. Everyone got to know one another and there was a sense of anticipation that built up, as time went on, and they were in the dead of summer before anyone knew what hit them.

It was one of those hot days, as Xay finally found some people to escape down to the creek with, that Shae found herself mostly alone on the property. Astra was out as well as Richard and Shae found herself, along with one of the other women, whipping up plates for lunch. As the time neared, she sent the other woman off to fetch those who were down by the creek with Xay, while she took the short walk over to the barn.

With all the other other people about, when the temperatures weren't completely unbearable, they'd been able to continue fixing up the barn. Locke seemed rather interested in the endeavor. He'd had Richard, on some of his back and forth trips, bring him some books from his guild's library relating to medical magic and, along with a cot he and Xavier had bought on the cheap in the city, he now felt like something close to a practicing physician. He spent most of his days, in fact, locked away in the barn, making potions and things to relieve the many minor aliments of the newest members. While days drug on for others, they were flying by for the man.

For his girlfriend? Not so much.

She was who Shae looked to, after knocking at the cracked open barn doors, peeking wearily inside. The pair, after all, did seem to living in the structure and, well, she didn't exactly want to just walk in on them. It was Haven that called out to her though, the blonde having been pacing around the barn floor.

"Meal's ready," Shae remarked, stepping in to glance around. She couldn't place Locke at first and looked higher, spotting him sitting at the edge of the loft, feet dangling over the edge as he wrote something down in a journal. Frowning, she asked, "Are you doing that weird...spell thing? Again?"

"Huh?" Locke glanced up at her in surprise, having not noticed her previously. Still, he grinned a bit, blushing as he remarked, "No. I'm, uh, writing my parents. And Haven's. It's been a few months now and I don't want them to be worried or anything, so-"

"You're not writing my parents for me." Haven sent him a look. "You're dictating, from me, what to write to them."

"Why can't you just write it?" Shae questioned, but Haven only huffed in response while Locke hummed.

It felt like answer enough.

"Everyone will be coming up from the creek soon," the woman offered when the couple refused. "You could get your plates and escape back here before X sees you, or-"

"We'll eat with everyone else." And Locke jumped them, after tossing his journal and pen over his shoulder. "Being stuck alone with Haven all day mess with your brain."

"Shut up, Locke." Haven shoved him when he was close enough, but he was still grinning as he rubbed at his arm. "Idiot."

But she stuck around with him, anyways. Shae as well. They were sitting out in the grass when the others came up, Xavier immediately spotting them and rushing to grab his serving so he could join them. Shirtless and still in his trunks, he dried out in the grass beside them as he ate his sandwich, filling the three excitedly in on all they'd missed.

Not much, honestly, given there wasn't much to do down at the creek, but he told them about each and every splash of water or leer made towards another. Locke and Shae put up with this alright, but Haven, eventually, zapped him just enough to make the teen cry out and the others gathered around laugh with a bit of unease.

Though those left on the property of the new members were all grateful towards Haven, there was a constant air of uncertainty for many of them. Even for those who magic was common, Haven walking around with that demonic arm was frightening and while she'd tried to be approachable these past few weeks, she could tell most all of them skated around her.

But not Locke.

Never Locke.

If him becoming so friendly with Shae was annoying, watching him easily do the same with the new recruit only irked the blonde further. There was always a gap, a barrier, between her and those who she didn't view as directly benefiting her life. Back on the manor, she was so out of her element, so alone, that she was forced to become at least somewhat personable. Or at least try to be. She'd more lucked out in that regard, with Neeve being a rather kind person and the other woman who'd helped her, who she now knew as Freida, being so receptive to any thought of escape.

Now though, that everyone saw her as this mage with some sort of crazy demon power, they seemed to be overly cautious around her. She had saved them, yes, and those who'd glimpsed the scaled arm feared it and those who hadn't, but had heard the rumor, were conservatively curious. Haven had spent most of her life round other wizards, both children and adults, who had a better grasp on its implications.

And she couldn't even make friends with most of those people.

She was even more boarded off now, around tentative mages and those who grew up with, maybe, a lacrima, and now she was the oddity. Haven usually thrived as the outlier, but now that she was meant to make connections with others, she found this to be a drawback.

But Xavier was her friend. Or at least something close to that. She couldn't exactly call the teen her friend (there was too much distance between them), but she definitely recognized the placeholder he was keeping for her in her life. As she shocked him that day, it was equal amounts annoyance over his continued talking and perhaps a bit of anxiety relief, as Locke made idle conversation and she felt out of place.

"Richard told me he'd bring me a book too," Xavier warned the woman with a frown as he rubbed at where she'd zapped his arm. "About different types of magic. I haven't learned any spells since I was a kid, but once I know some more-"

"Just blast her," Locke suggested with an easy grin that made Haven want to shock him as well. "With your, uh, little shotgun. Who needs magic then?"

"That's right." He snickered then, the teen did, as he mimed holding the gun in both hands. Shae made a face as he pretend to cock it, but it was Haven he turned to face. "Right through the gut. Straight through."

Suddenly, Locke wasn't having as much fun. As he made a face though, turning from them, it was to find another coming to sit in the grass beside them, his own plate of food gripped tightly in his hands.

"Jed." Haven too was thankful to get away from the conversation. One of her hands patted idly at her stomach, where among the myriad of scars she held lay the most traumatic, but her eyes were on the man as he sat beside them, silent as always. "I'm so glad you came over to sit with us."

"Really?" The man seemed uneasy with this, but it was Locke's gaze, suspicious of his girlfriend, that felt the heaviest. "Is there...something I could do for you? Or-"

"No." Haven beamed falsely, hoping to force her happiness as she assured him, "I'm just happy to have a friend sit so close. That's all."

And Locke made a noise then, in the back of his throat, that sounded like choking, but not quiet. Shae gazed at him curiously, but he only shook his head, because she couldn't understand. No one could. That didn't have to put up with Haven constant.

It was his fault, anyways, for reading the first draft of his letter home to his girlfriend and citing all of the interesting people he was getting to know, from the first batch of slaves they'd freed, as he should have known what this would spawn. Haven, immediately, had launched into a tirade about being sure to include that as well, in her letter he wanted him to write, back to her parents. Only Haven hadn't seemed to be making much of an effort, from Locke's point of view, in getting to know others and form bonds, and when he mentioned this, he got the same terse response he always did from the woman, when pointing out one of her flaws.

He was actually kind of lucky, probably, that Shae showed up to call them to lunch with she did.

"You tell such interesting stories," Haven continued to insist, leaning over Locke to do so, as she stared at the other man with an intense gaze. She was trying to go for interested, Locke was sure, but she wasn't quite used to having that emotion in relation to other people. "Jed. Like that one you told me the other day. When we were both on dinner shift?"

"O-Oh. Yes." He nodded then, Jed did, in a careful manner. He was a rather reserved man, keeping to himself even among the others. Haven had never rightly asked what it was that got her locked down in the dungeon before her, but she couldn't imagine it had been purposeful. He seemed rather rigid. "I was speaking on my father's work. He was a botanist. For the Kingdom. My kingdom. Joya. He's passed on now, but-"

"See? I'm friends with a botanist," Haven seemed to brag to Locke.

"For one," her boyfriend retorted, "so what? For two, his father was the botanist. Do you even listen? And for three, I want you, right now, Haven, to explain to me what a botanist does. No one help her."

Xavier frowned, sitting back as he realized he couldn't if he tried.

"I… Shut up, Locke." Haven shocked him then, far more harshly, and he shoved her back with the same roughness, but as Jed (and others who were glancing over) watched in surprise, Shae only stared at Jed.

"You're from Joya?" she questioned with a frown. At his nod, she made a face and remarked, "I thought I'd asked everyone about their home country when they arrived. I don't know how I missed you, but-"

"I blend in rather well," he offered though his gaze was on where Haven and Locke were fully tussling now, their pent up need for such a thing having been repressed in their current locale.

Locke had felt poorly about all she's suffered, in Bosco, and combining that with them being in the presence of those not so used to guild life, they hadn't had a good brawl in quite awhile. His sympathy was completely killed off though with that first shock, as it was enough to make him see black for a few seconds there.

Shae hardly glanced at them though as, looking only to Jed, she said, "I'm from Joya as well. Do you… Did you live on the coast? Or in-land? Or… When were you taken? To Bosco? I'm sorry, I just… No one else from the manor was from Joya. I-"

"It's alright." He even smiled, a strange one, for sure, as the man seemed uncomfortable doing so. "I understand. It's...been a long time for me, as well. To see someone from our home."

And her hopes were dashed a bit then, Shae's were, as she remarked, "Then I suppose you wouldn't have known any, while you were in Bosco."

"Is there someone you were looking for?" Jed asked, but Haven, who'd finally managed to pin her boyfriend, only ground his face into the dirt as she glared over at the other woman.

"Jed's my friend, Shae," she threatened which, considering how she was treating Locke in the moment, the position didn't seem that highly coveted. "So-"

"My mother," the woman went on, ignoring the other. "I have a photo, actually, that I carry around. Here."

From her pocket, she produced a wallet or pouch of some sort, from which she then pulled a tiny photograph. Holding it out to Jed, Shae looked on with hope but, after the man studied it for a moment, he could only shake his head.

"I'm sorry," he offered, but she only returned the gesture as she returned the photograph to its proper place.

"Don't be," she whispered, as she had so many times before, but it stung in the pit of her stomach each and every time. "I'll find her one day."

Though their tussling had started rather light hearted, Locke and Haven ended on sour terms and when she mentioned she was heading down to the creek, it was with the clear implication that she intended to be alone. Considering even her boyfriend seemed to have no interest in following, no other seemed to either. Even Xay.

Which, unfortunately for Locke, meant he intended to spend the rest of the day bothering him.

He made some check-ins, the hopeful medic did, with those who's recovery period was a bit more drawn out. People filtered in and out of the barn after lunch as Xavier paced around it now, in place of Haven, though rather than an aggravated gait, he did so as he tossed a rubber ball around, bouncing it off planks and boards, not always managing to catch it before it bounced to the ground. Locke had grown up with no true younger siblings, but had placated as a pseudo older brother to enough of the younger guys in the hall that he knew an attempt for attention when he saw one.

"Is Haven actually stronger than you?" the boy asked eventually during a down period where Locke climbed back up to the edge of the loft, to begin his long letter home once more. "Or were you just letting her win? Before?"

"She didn't win anything," he grumbled, a bit bitter. The concept, after all, had been ingrained in them since they were young children. There were no winners or losers between Haven and Locke, when they fought; just remorse and lack of it. "The fuck are you talking about?"

Xavier grinned, hearing the harsh tone from the older guy so rarely, but only continued to toss his ball around as he insisted, "You let her pin you down."

"She fucking shocked me," he griped back. "And she didn't for very long."

"But you probably couldda kicked her ass, huh? Just one on one? And you let her feel like she won?"

Locke didn't like his questions and, frowning as he looked down at the younger guy, he questioned, "What are you asking me, man?"

"Well… You know when we went into the town? Last week? And I kinda flaked on you and Haven, while you did the shoppin' for the group and all?" Xay missed the ball that time, not even moving to catch it as it fell from above and bounced, rather high, two more times, before rolling off, under some unused wood off in a corner. "I kinda found some other kids- Well, not kids. I'm not a kid. Other appropriately aged teens-"

"You're making this weird," Locke whispered and, considering his guild, he felt he was the expert on such things.

"Well, there's this girl that, sometimes, when we go into town, if her and her friends are in the park, I try to meet up with," Xavier explained as he'd stopped pacing then. Instead, he stood before where Locke perched himself on the loft, head tilted back as he stared up at the older guy. "And I asked Richard about how I should, you know, get to know her better. 'cause I like her. But his advice sucked. She did not like any of the jokes he told me I should tell and I think she thought I was a creep, so I wasn't even sure if she'd let me hang out with them, when I ditched you and Haven last time, but she did. They did. Her and her friends. They were playing handball and I'm great at that and I thought if I creamed her, then she'd see how great I am at it and probably think I'm cool or whatever, but eventually none of them wanted to play with me at all and I'm not sure if it's 'cause I creamed them? Or something else? But you let Haven cream you and-"

"Stop," Locke finally complained, "saying creamed."

"I just meant that you let Haven kick your ass," Xavier explained. "Should I let her beat me too? Do you think that would work? Or would she think I'm a wimp? I thought you were supposed to be, like, the best at something. That's how you get girls to notice you, right?"

"I mean… I guess. Maybe." Locke went back to his writing. "Girls aren't all one being, X."

"Yeah, but-"

"You shouldn't purposely...cream someone either," Locke told him with a frown. "If you're better at someone, fine. But don't rub it in. No one likes that. Especially not girls."

"You just said not all girls are the same."

"Fine. Yes. Some girls might like having their faces shoved in your accomplishments, but I'm betting it's not many."

Xavier looked a bit devious as he questioned, "Did you like when Haven shoved your face in the ground?"

"Shuddup." Shaking his head, Locke said, "All girls are different, but… When I was your age, they really liked when I showed off my magic. Or sometimes would just write them nice letters."

Again, still devious, he started to question, "Do you write Haven-"

"Don't make me stop helping you."

Deflating some, Xavier asked instead, "Did you get a lot of girls?"

"All the ones I wanted," Locke assured him before admitting, "for awhile. They always kind of lost interest in me eventually. Other than Haven. Because of Haven, probably, actually, now that I think about it. She was kind of possessive for just a friend-"

"So you just show them your magic?" the boy insisted. "And that's it?"

"No. I… You gotta have a good, happy demeanor. Or at least I did. And have a good smile ready on the go. Girls also used to like that I made my own money, so I could take us on dates. Buy them things."

"I don't have any of that!"

"Yeah, you do," Locke insisted. "Maybe not the money, but the rest of it's all… Just how you are. How a person is."

"What do you mean?"

"It's all about the charisma.," And he smiled then, Locke did, absently, reflecting. "Like your overall personality. The first girl I ever really liked, when I was thirteen or fourteen, she… She wasn't from my guild or anything. Just another one of the girls who lived on my street growing up. And I spent like a month, not going out on jobs or training with my friends, just so I could sit on my front porch and wait for her and her mother to come back from shopping- They were always shopping. Or catch them headed to the market. And I'd offer to carry their bags, all of their bags, and she'd always laugh and her mom would tell me I was so helpful and cute and-"

"You stalked her."

"What?"

"You watched her house for her movements," Xavier pointed out. "And figured out her schedule. So that you could alter your own to match it."

"I did not." Locke felt stricken then. "Did I?"

"I think I could do that." Xavier snickered, tossing up an arm. "Nothing going on here anyways, other than my early morning training sessions. I could go into town and figure out when she goes to the market and-"

"No, don't." Now Locke was uncertain of how much of his story was tainted equally by nostalgia and the nativity of a young boy. "It sounds really bad, hearing it back."

"But it worked for you."

"Look who I ended up with." Locke went back to his letter. "Find someone else for girl advice. I'm clearly not great at it."

"I know that you know I can hear you, asshole."

Xavier jumped, as the barn door was shoved open and Haven stalked him. She was glaring at her boyfriend, but Locke only seemed intent with his letter then.

"Look who I ended up with," she kept up. "A loser writing home to his mommy and daddy because he misses and loves them."

"Yeah, Haven," Locke replied with a frown. "That's a normal human response. Struggling with those, huh?"

"Shut up!" Her arm sparked, but it seemed to be absently as, just as quickly, she was glancing over at Xavier. "What were you guys talking about anyways?"

"Noth-" the younger guy tried, but Locke only shrugged.

"Xavier has a crush on some girl in the town we shop in." As he felt the hard gaze of the other guy, Locke only looked at him with another shrug. "Anything you tell me goes back to her. Vice versa."

"I mean, he's wrong about the last part," Haven assured the younger guy. "But the rest of it-"

"Don't be weird," Xavier cautioned with a frown, but Haven shook her head some as she approached.

"What's weird about it?" Haven even shrugged. "It's primal."

"Oh great," Locke muttered as Haven gently slugged the younger guy.

"Primal?" Xavier didn't like that word. "What do you mean?"

"Instinct," Haven explained. "People wanna get with other people. It's normal."

"Don't," Locke insisted, "listen to her. Whatever comes out of her mouth next, ignore it. I don't know what it'll be, but-"

"Shut up, idiot." Haven shot him a look. To Xavier, she said, "Anyone I want to be with, I get with. Or I did. I'm, uh, kinda tied up with a moron now, but-"

"That's different." Locke made a face. "For women. Seriously, Xay, it is. Haven's a chick. A reasonably attractive one."

"Reasonably?" Haven carped, but he was still not in much of a giving mood, considering their tussling only an hour or so previously.

"If she throws herself at a guy enough," the older guy finished, "then she'll land him. Doesn't work that way for us."

"I don't...throw myself at men anyways. Idiot." Haven, actually, seemed bothered by the implication. "And women work at relationships too, loser. I think I'd be the better person to tell him about what a girl would like, anyways, from a guy considering, you know, I was one."

"When?" Locke harked back, but Xavier only nodded at the assumption.

"I guess you're right," he agreed. "So what did you like? Haven?"

"Well," she began while her boyfriend only rolled his eyes, "to begin with, toss out whatever Locke told you before I came in. He was a loser when we were kids and anything he did only worked because others took pity on him."

"You," Locke growled, exasperated, "dated me! I was the first guy you dated! So what are you saying?"

"I," the blonde assured him, "pitied you."

"Haven-"

"But what did you like?" Xavier insisted to which the blonde only grinned.

"I," she insisted, "and every other girl worth your time, like strong guys. Like, not just physically. You can't be a little wimpy weenie like Locke and cry about literally everything. You have to be able to take it, you know? If she insults every single thing about you. Or attacks you. I don't like a guy that I can't fight with. Or refuses to admit it when I pinned them. You have to admit when you lose. But don't lose too often, 'cause then she'll loose interest. There's no point in being with someone if you're stronger than them."

"There's stronger mages than you?" Locke questioned then. "Haven? That's what you're saying right? That you're some puny little woman who needed big strong men in her life?"

"No."

"That's literally what you just said-"

"I said I lose interest when I find out that I'm stronger than they are." She tossed up an electrified fist, making Xay jump back. "Which always eventually becomes apparent." As she dropped her arm though, she admitted softly, "But if he was stronger than me, then I guess, eventually, I'd come to resent that and eventually plot to steal his magic from him. If that wasn't my ultimate goal the entire time. It probably was. So-"

"I'm confused," the teen admitted with a frown.

"Yeah," Locke agreed, but it was with more of a sigh as he continued writing something down. Absently, he said, "She has that affect on other people."

Glaring up at the other guy, Haven ordered, "Get down here and say that to my face."

"Nope. I'm gonna stay right here. Above you."

And that couldn't stand.

"What do you even like about the girl? Xay?" Haven was turning then, to go climb up the loft ladder. "Huh?"

"W-Well…. She's really cute. And I her perfume. And the way that she says my name. And laughs. And when we were playing handball the other day, she was really, uh, jumping around and I guess-"

"Don't be gross about it." Up on the loft, Haven came to sit right beside her boyfriend, who made a face at this, but still allowed this. As she glanced over at his current draft of the letter though, she frowned. "And Locke, don't put that in the letter."

"Why not?"

"Because you didn't fucking win."

"Uh, I did, so-"

"I'll push you off this loft."

"Do you think I should stalk her? Haven?" Xavier was asking then. "Like Locke said?"

"I didn't say that!"

"Well," Haven said with a shrug, "it's how he got all of his girlfriends before me."

"You thought so too?" Locke dropped his pen as he let out a long, exasperated sigh. "I guess I was-"

"A creep." Haven patted his shoulder. "I just kept it from you 'cause I like you so much."

"You like me?" he questioned, raising his gaze, but this only got him slugged and it was just as well.

As the two fell more into making up than the problem at hand, Xavier found himself leaving them to it, exiting the barn to walk the property instead. People frittered about now and he liked to imagine they were the same people who did, not too long ago, when Astra wasn't who they looked to for leadership alone.

But maybe it was better. The change. He found himself missing those who'd been around before, but were gone now, less and less.

Still, he was thankful to find Shae around, sitting on the porch steps, having that same vacant look she'd had since lunch. As he sat beside her, he felt like he should make some sort of mention, an apology, maybe, towards her dashed hopes, but he found he frequently balked on these sorts of things. And, when she sighed, glancing over at him, he only smiled warmly.

"Shae," he asked as she stared, "how do you...you know, tell a girl that you like her?"

She smiled too then and it felt just as warm, maybe, but quickly she was shaking her head.

"You don't," she told him, perhaps ordered, as she looked back over the property. "We're gearing up to go to war with Bosco, Xay. Focus on that. Not girls. Trust me, they only get you in trouble."

He believed her. She was usually right about things, after all. But at the same time, though he nodded along, he wasn't so sure he intended on throwing in the towel just like that.

Richard would return that night, but any intrigue in that would be killed off by the appearance of another bright and early the next morning. Xay was busy leading the morning workout when, from the treeline, Luka appeared, alone and capless, but there all the same. And, just like the last time, she paid little mind to any of those gathered about and instead only bounded right up to the house where she entered with no request, no doubt going to seek out Astra.

And though he had to continue the workout, he could hardly contain his excitement. The appearance of the other woman surely meant another voyage.

Surely.

But he wasn't called to the meeting that evening. Astra finally emerged from the house only to request Shae get both Haven and Locke from where they'd gone off down to the creek together and bring them to the house; she and Luka wished to speak to the three of them.

"This is crap," Xavier complained to Richard, who he'd stalked over to when finding out he was banned from the meeting.

The older guy was very busy, having a conversation with some of his guild members he'd brought out to the base, who he claimed were going to help him look into building some more permanent structures, rather than the tents that dotted the land. But he turned from them, all the same, when the teen grumbled to him, his typical grin feeling just as wry as ever.

"Aye," he agreed with a nod. "The women conspirin' against us, eh? Locke too. That long hair of his. Women."

"That not what I meant!" As always, Xay turned on the older man rather easily. "And you know it! I should be in there."

"Is this dissent against Queen Astra?"

"Shut up, Richard."

"Captain Luka, huh?" He whistled then, the other man did, long and low. "They'll make ya walk the plank for that, kid. If I rat ya out. And you can just about count on it. I can't swim. Can't risk it for myself."

Xavier grumbled, but did relent to concept of waiting the others out. Which he did, in the grass, his trusted gun slung over his back, as he pouted.

Locke and Haven were a bit embarrassed, when Shae found them making out down by the creek, but she seemed less concerned with that as her eyes seemed more alight than the prior days when she informed them, "Luka's back. Meeting in the house. Just us."

And it was a bit of a race then, to get back then.

Locke felt a heaviness though, about being around Astra again. Or Luka, maybe, for that matter. The pair seemed rather aligned, from what he could tell, and Haven had an equally uneasy feeling from the latter woman. She'd told him as much. Luka had to, at least somewhat, have been on the idea of ditching Haven at the Ewings, and yes, they were all trying to move on from that now, but Locke always found it had to let things go. He could forgive, but the forgetting…

"I," Astra began the second they were in the house, standing around the table, "have procured entryway into the next manor. For all three of you."

She paused, long enough to gauge their reactions. Shae's, immediately, was one of joy, and Haven's mimicked it. Maybe. There wasn't nearly the same about of excitement now that she was reminded of the horrors of the Kingdom. But Locke's face was the hardest and, as he stared down Astra, he was the one to ask the first question.

"How?" he asked simply and Astra only sighed around her ever present smoke.

"For the two of them," she remarked, gesturing between Shae and Haven, "the only option is to be smuggled in as slaves. I know that you went through a lot, Haven, the last time, but-"

"I'm ready for it," she cut the older woman off, but there wasn't as much steel in her voice as usual now. It was far more resound. "Wouldn't be here if I wasn't."

Nodding, Astra looked to Shae as she said, "And you too? It's been awhile for you. Are you...going to be okay with that? Or-"

"Anything to get back over there. To speak to people." Shae's hand absently brushed the pocket she kept her wallet in, just the feel of it, knowing what it contained, comforting her. "Anything."

"What about me?" Locke asked with a frown

"You'll be different," Astra said. "The manor we're going to hit doesn't have any fields. Or use for male slaves. But he does frequently fall in and out of bodyguards and the like. I've gotten you a chance at being one of those. Then you'll be on the manor, getting insider information, while Shae and Haven rally the women. And you'll both be together. That's what you want, right?"

Haven glanced at Locke, who nodded, content it seemed, before agreeing, "Yeah. It is."

"Good." It was to Luka then, that Astra nodded, before saying, "She'll drop you in Bosco in the hands of some sellers in a group bound for the manor. I don't know them. And Luka only through connections. They aren't on our side. If something goes awry, Haven, I expect your...demon magic to help keep Shae, and any of the others that you're in the company of, safe. You have to get to that manor. Not another one. We're going to hit it in particular for a reason."

"What reason?" Shae asked with a frown.

"Tunnels," Luke answered then, speaking for the first time with a bright grin.

"Tunnels?" Haven question. "What-"

"How do I end up there?" Locke was more focused on that.

"That's the part you're not going to like," Astra said. "You have to leave. Immediately. For Bosco. Richard will accompany you there. Take you most of the way before returning. He and his guild did some work before, in Bosco, and he has some loose connections with some of the bodyguards. He's put in some good word about you and you're in. I want you gone tomorrow morning."

"What about Haven?" Locke asked with a frown. "When will she get there?"

Astra looked to Luka who only shook her head as she told him, "Won't be for another week or so, before I get get her and Shae to their drop point. Just enough time for you to get all cozy, huh?"

"I don't-"

"He'll do it." Haven wasn't giving Locke a chance to question much. "We both will."

But her boyfriend wasn't as receptive.

"What am I body guarding the guy from?" he complained. "And what's the manor like? If there's not fields, then… What is it? And what if Haven and Shae don't make it? How do I extradite myself? Just leave?"

"You're going as a Fiore resident," Astra informed him. "It's a job. You don't like the job? You leave. It's as simple as that. When shit hits the fan though-"

"We gave ya the easy shit, rook," Luka cut in. "You go down there, do what you're told, gain intell and trust of the top brass. Astra's afraid we might be in this one for the long haul. You stick around the manor as much as you can, make sure these two aren't roughed up too much, and be prepared to help them when the overthrowin' happens. A kid could do it. In fact, where's that kid anyway? Astraea? That hang around? Get him. Less questions."

"You don't know him that well," the other woman retorted to which Luka gave in with a nod.

It was true.

"Locke's backup, fine," Shae interceded, "but what do we do? Me and Haven? She said it was just luck that it all worked out for her the last time, right? So how are we going to get them to overthrow this guy? And which family is it? Is it on the coast?"

"In land," Astra answered.

"Then how are we going to get out of there?" Shae kept up.

But Lucke answered for her.

"You know how I'm getting you in?" she questioned, looking from Haven to Shae. "Because of the stream. The constant stream. You know it's actually outlawed? Right? Citizens of Bosco are not legally permitted to capture and pillage neighboring kingdoms or islands for slaves. There were wars fought over this, when slavery was, one by one, outlawed in said kingdoms and island. Yet, we do. Don't Astra? The wars were ended long before we were born and the poaching started some time after. Before we were born still, of course. It started slow. Slaver ships would leave Bosco and take unsuspecting people from their boats in certain areas. Some of the Kingdoms raised cane, but Bosco ignored them and threatened war, once more, and they backed off. It was just a few fishermen. Lost tourism boats. Here or there. Then...we hit the beaches. Of the islands. And who rallies for the islands? It's just the islanders. Then...we hatched plans, and schemes, getting bolder and bolder because some men like the women of Fiore, with their fair skin and hair. Some of the families prefer their works from Seven because they breed big, strong, men and women there who can clear boulders and rock easily.

"We just kept stealing them. People. From their homes. More and more. If we can get them across the water without the specific Kingdom they hail from taking note, then we're home free. A few mistakes, here or there, taking royals and such. Adjacent. But other than that… The other Kingdoms have become complacent. Perhaps conspirators. There's been raised questions of what the King of Bosco offers them, for their silence. Who knows? All I know, as trader, is that there's much money to be have in the slave trade...if you know the right people. And those people will never stop. For every body you brought back out of there, cargo, five more were returned in their favor. It ain't enough. Bringin' 'em out. You can't. Not all of 'em. Never."

"What are you saying?" Haven asked as it was mostly her, honestly, the woman was locking eyes with.

"You want to take over that country? You gotta _stay_ in that country. Before a force in that country. You need a stronghold in that country." Smiling then, Luke said, "You take this manor down, we have access to a tunnel system that not many know about. Astra will be able to funnel in everyone from back here. Combined with those already in the property, why, it's almost like you'd have a small army. An untrained, small army that would easily be squashed by the Kingdom, of course. But-"

"Luka," Astra cut the woman off with a frown, "is getting head of herself. I find most of you do, here. Right now, Haven, Shae, all I want from you is to gauge the environment there. Get your info back to Locke and he'll be able to contact me. If we have to get you out of there, then we'll get you out of there. But it's my hope that after a few weeks, maybe a few months, the two of you can organized something similar to what Haven triggered within the Ewing manor. I had confidence in the success of that mission purely because I knew Ewing and his treatment of his slaves, as well as that of his wife and men. This place…I've never been. I don't know much about. But from what I do know… In regards to your treatment, Haven, by Ewing, here is… It's all..."

She looked away then, Astra did, plucking her cigarette from her mouth and blushing some. Luka looked away also and Haven felt she knew what she meant.

"Are they all this way?" Haven asked softly, feeling quite dumb for never considering it before. When she always had, as a child, she imagined the horrors of Bosco to be dealing solely with physicality, but as Astra shook her head, unable to answer, Luka found herself taking over once more.

"All the power in the world," she told the simply, "and complete dominion over someone else… They're all like this. Why wouldn't they be? They can have anything they want. You'd be surprised how many people you know and trust would do the same."

Shae snorted at this, but didn't disagree while Locke only frowned.

"What are you implying?" he asked. "I'm not...going to let them hurt Haven. If that's what you mean. Or Shae. Or anyone. If I'm around."

"Good." Astra looked back at him. "Then you'll do perfect."

There was a sarcasm in her tone and, as she dismissed him, it was with the instruction to pack lightly and prepare for the morning; he was going to be heading out at the crack of dawn.

Haven went with him to the loft where instead of packing, they just sat quietly for a few moments. They'd passed Xay, who'd tried to follow them on their way, but he'd been shoved to the side and ignored, the pair knowing they'd want to be alone for the night, not even planning on leaving the barn for dinner.

"Did someone… When you were in Bosco, last time, or the first time, Haven, did-"

"No," she answered Locke without forcing the full question out of him and the man seemed thankful for that, but not by much. "That's what they meant though. Luka's kind of right, I guess. It's just...a part of how things are there."

"Yeah, well," he remarked as they sat there, on their sleeping bags, looking one another in the eyes, "no one's fucking putting a hand on you while I'm around."

"I can look out for myself."

"Doesn't fucking matter. Shae either. And what the fuck? I'm just supposed to go over there and watch all of this go on and what? Huh? Say nothing? Do nothing? Fuck."

"Locke-"

"If someone's hurting a woman, hurting anyone, around me, I don't care who it is, I'll fucking-"

"You'll," Haven ordered, "do as your told."

"No. I'll-"

"Locke." And she was leaning over then, to grasp his jaw in her hand, glaring up into his red eyes, "You'll do as you're told. No matter what it is. Set your boundaries or whatever with them, if that works out, fine, but you're going in to work for this dude. You're not going to oversee him. You can't."

Locke turned his head away from her, frowning down at the woman as he insisted, "No one's going to be raping people around me, Haven. That's fucked."

"There's something called greater good, Locke. And I didn't say that there would. That is fucked." She turned then, to crawl across the small area to where his pack laid before dragging it over. "Now pack. Like Astra said. And finish writing the letter to your parents. And mine. Make sure that you tell them you may not be able to get back to them for a few, so they don't worry. And-"

"This isn't what I meant, you know," he cut her off, not even moving to take his sack. "About us sticking together. We might end up back together, fine, but she's separating us first. You don't find that a bit suspicious? And you're going to go on a slaver ship? No. Haven, I… I'm trying really hard at all this. You know I am. But-"

"Are you going to keep this for me?" She was moving then to take off her necklace. The man frowned, but she still forced it into his palm. "I won't be able to take it with me, into Bosco. Not the way I'm going. But you can, can't you, Locke?"

And she was chopping his name in that way that made his stomach knot, but it wasn't in a good way for once as he only nodded, being rewarded by the woman leaning up to press a kiss against his cheek.

"Things always work out, don't they?" she asked him.

"In Fairy Tail," he answered. "We're not in Fairy Tail anymore, Have."

"You're always in Fairy Tail." And she pushed a hand against his chest, where she imagined his heart lay beneath. "Always."

He nodded, but still swallowed heavily.

"You have stop being so nervous about this shit too," she insisted, her tone losing it's softer undertone. "Locke. You're not like this out on jobs. What's the big deal? Consider it a job. You go on ahead, get settled, and I'll catch up. What's there for you to be worried about? I won't let anything happen to you."

It was his turn to lose something as the woman managed to drag something else out of him, sitting up a bit taller as he griped at her, "Is that what you think? Haven? That you protect me?"

"I mean," she retorted with a bit of a shrug, "I was the one that won our fight earlier."

"The fuck you did."

"I did."

"No way."

"Yes. I pinned you. I-"

"If you won," he alleged, "then I let you win."

"I pummel you right now, Redfox," she retorted. "Try me."

This wasn't settled with wrestling, but rather some pressing of their foreheads against one another, roughly pushing against the other's skull before, eventually, mutually, in time with one another, they both relented, sitting back to stare away from the other.

"I protect you Locke," she finally told him. "Just like you protect me. Remember? We protect each other."

"I know," he agreed though, silently, he knew this was different. It felt very different.

"When we see one another again," she began then, her tone becoming playful, "you can't just jump my bones, you know. Like you usually do."

"Think I can go a few days without seeing you, thanks, Haven."

"Can you though?" She made a noise of doubt before remarking, "I mean it though. When we see one another again, out there in Bosco, you'll be the big, bad bodyguard and I'll be the poor silent."

"Yeah, well- The silent?"

Shrugged, Haven looked uncomfortable as she said, "I don't like...slave. It so...harsh. And it makes sense, because it's a harsh thing, but… It's just what I call them. Me. When I'm with them."

Locke sat there for a moment before holding his open palm out, to the woman. When she pressed her own against it, he remarked simply, "It'll be something to see then, I guess."

"What?"

He closed his fist around her hand as it curled. Grinning then, Locke said, "You being quiet."

She made a face at him before falling forwards some, just enough to brush her lips against his before pulling back to whisper, "You're gonna be fine, you know."

"I'm S-Class. Of course I'll be alright," he agreed with a nod. Shaking their clasped hands once before releasing them, he moved to finally dig into his bag and decide what was going with him. Softly though, he assured her, "And you will be too."

It felt strange. Reversed. Haven seeing him off. Richard and he would be crossing the board through standard means, which meant boarding a train and going to the physical crossing point. Part of Haven wanted to go with him, all the way there (she wouldn't have much to do for the next week anyways), but another part of her was fearful of Ewing somehow having people on the look out for her and, well…

For all the shit she gave Locke about needing to give her space, she knew that she needed to give the man his own as well. He was right. He was an S-Class wizard. All he had to do was show up somewhere and play along for a few days until she got there. He was a bit goofy and a tad bit too trusting for her taste, but overall, Locke was a really good person and a really great mage.

So she didn't worry about him.

But the loft was a lot colder and she surprised herself, each time she raised her hand to her neck, to find nothing resting there. She'd promised Locke that she'd mail the letters he'd written though and headed into town the first day he was gone to do so. Xavier tagged along and Haven ribbed him some, over that girl he was hoping to see, but when he found she wasn't around, the blonde laid off a bit.

"If you really like her," she offered simply, "you should go out and save Bosco. Like you want. Everyone's into a hero. You'll be so marketable then, you probably won't even have to settle just for her."

The boy grumbled at her, but did seem pleased with the idea.

Richard arrived back without Locke and Haven had never experienced it before. The waiting. The wondering.

Being left behind.

But she had something new to focus on and spent each day practicing out different transformations in the barn. She had to pick an easy one, not so different from herself, that she could hold for hours at a time, while still be unrecognizable. Xay helped her decide.

"What happens if your magic runs out?" he questioned once. "Then you'll loose the transformation, right? What if you're in front of someone? Even if they don't, like, recognize you as the person from the Ewing incident, you're still going to look awfully suspicious, aren't you? And you won't even have your magic to help protect you. What happens then?"

"I'm fucked, I guess," she said with a shrug as she walked around in her current transformation. She'd picked one of the other women from the new members, altering things just a bit to make it an easier transformation. "But I mean, Locke'll be around. And Shae."

"I should go," he said for not the first time. "With you. Like how Locke did. I bet I can find some sort of position and then, if anyone comes after you, bam! Right through the gut."

"Who even gave you a gun?" Haven questioned instead of, as they'd all done the past few days, crushing his dream of tagging along. "X?"

"Bam," he remarked, instead of answering, as he'd slung the weapon back around, to hold it in his hands. They didn't shake now, as they did when he was around real danger, and Haven was more fearful of him accidentally firing it while playing than anything else. "Right through the gut."

But Xavier wasn't allowed to go. He knew he wouldn't have been. But still, he sulked the day that Shae and Haven headed for the coast, pissed that he was, once more, being left behind. So far in the new regime, he was worthless.

"You and I got better things to worry about," Richard assured him, far more kind when the teen was clearly upset. As they stood together on the porch that early morning, watching the women disappear off the property, the burly man bumped elbows with the teen, forcing his gaze. Once he had it, Richard insisted, "You gotta train these people here, eh? Soon enough, we're going to be at war, kid."

But soon enough felt like centuries away and, for the time being, he was now stuck with patrol and the morning workouts.

Haven and Shae left alone, making the short trek about the same way the blonde had with Astra not too long ago. Only, instead of a comfortable silence, this one felt rather awkward. Shae was friendly with Locke and, through that, had spent more time with Haven in the past month, but that hardly made them friends.

Luka's ship awaited them on the dock, where it was being unloaded by her men. She watched this from her typical perch and, at the sight of Haven and Shae, welcomed them aboard.

"Cargo goes," she told them simply, "below deck."

Haven and Shae both could only nod though, between the two of them, there was still some hesitance about this.

Before they'd left that morning, Astra had come out of her room and run over the plan with them once more before placing the mark on their arm. The black tattoo now sealed their fate once more and though it meant little to those they passed, still in Fiore, the second they were forced out in Bosco…

Astra made Haven test out her transformation, to be sure it would hold. To be sure she had it down. Her new look, a dark haired woman with deep brown eyes, felt memorable enough without changing her facial structure much. She'd tested out, the day before, if she could hold it for the entirety, even in her sleep, and she found her magic held, with enough to spare should she need it.

That day on the boat though, as Shae and Haven settled in, she thought to conserve all she could of her magic, until they arrived. She had a sick feeling in her stomach though, residuals from her last journey, and she wasn't too shocked to see it mirrored in Shae's face.

Haven sat atop a crate while Shae stood around, clearly antsy. Eventually, Haven remarked, "You might as well sit. This took over a day, last time I was down here."

Shae hardly glanced at her, remarking simply, "I know how long it takes."

"Well… Did you want to talk? Or go over some sort of plan? I mean, I don't really know exactly what we're going into, but I did just leave the Ewing place and-"

"Can we just not talk? Please? For awhile?" Pacing about, Shae shook her head some. "I just...really need you to be quiet. Right now. Please. I don't like boats. Alright?"

She raised her eyebrows, the blonde did, but figured it was for the best. Silence awaited them. It was better to get started early.

When Luka came down for them hours later, it was with a plate of food...along with one of her men.

"Eat up," she offered, setting the plate down on one of the large crates. "Both of you. I don't know when you'll get another chance. And after..."

she trailed off, a slight grin as she nodded to the guy behind her.

Shae and Haven, who'd spent the past day or so awkwardly not speaking now had something of a bond as they exchanged concerned glances. Both imagined there'd only be more in the coming days and weeks.

Luka had her man bind them, with thick chains, and the sour feeling in Haven's stomach only grew, but she continued to push it back down. These were the kinds of things she was going to have to deal with, every single day, if she was going to do as she wished. Help those in need. Taking in deep breaths, she transformed finally, back into the woman she'd picked out. Though her electricity felt trapped within her and was by far her primary magic, it felt comforting to realize she was still able to transform. That the demon, while nestled now, could be awoken at any time.

She was safe. Where she was going. And Locke would be there. Doubly safe. But when she looked to Shae, who also seemed a bit nervous over this direction, she forced a grin.

"Locke and I are both mages, you know," she offered the other woman. "We'll look out for you."

"I can look out for myself," Shae assured her simply. "I escaped once and if I have to, I'll escape again."

"No one's escapin'," Luka remarked as, after locking their wrists into conjoined cuffs, her man took a step back. Grinning, the older woman insisted to the others, "The two of you are gonna drive out Harval from his property and I'm gonna get access to his tunnel system. From there..."

She laughed then, Luka did, but it was a short one and didn't seem quite meant for any of those listening.

"One of my guys up top will load you into a row boat," Luka explained then, take you into shore, trade you off into a group headed for Harval's place. From there… Do you know all the top families? In Bosco? Harval's a special breed. Take care of yourselves. And remember, cargo doesn't talk."

Staring into the eyes of the older woman, Haven let out one of those deep breaths, but said nothing.

It was finally time.

The rowboat was tiny, rickety, and full of splinters. Haven also wasn't so sure what would happen, should she and Shae, conjoined by their chains, fall into the water. Bound the way they were, there was no way for them to swim and they'd certainly sink straight to the bottom. Water had never been Haven's friend and she sat stock still, feeling each and every motion of the boat in a way that was hidden on the ship.

"Name's Frank," was the blunt remark of the man in the boat with them. He was a big guy with a thick neck and, as he spoke, a vein bulged. Even more so as he took a paddle in each hand and began to row them ashore. "No hard feelin's to either of ya. Cap says I take ya to the meetin' spot, get some cicles, and the two of you will take it from there. I've heard stories about Harval's place. You ladies don't' strike me as the type, but… You're sure you want me to drop you there?"

Haven glanced at Shae, but the other woman had her eyes closed, praying it seemed like, silently, as the tiny boat swayed heavily. Turning her own head, Haven only glared passed the man, who snorted in return.

"Suit yourself." He nodded then, down, and though it was a broad gesture, Haven knew he meant it towards their markings. "Prisoners here now, the both of you. Hope you accomplish what you come for."

Haven pulled her chains up then, to scratch at her nose and this movement, finally, forced Shae to look at her as the chains pulled her as well. It was still strange to her, to see the blonde as something different now, but some how more palatable then, when Haven smiled at her, a knowing one. She wasn't keyed in to how exactly Shae was connected to Bosco, but she knew enough to know she was int eh same place as her. With markings on both their arms, truly, they were joined together. And as the chains tugged again, when Shae raised her own hands and she smiled as well.

The look they shared was observed by the man who, continuing on row, only shook his head in doubt, but they knew. Eyes towards the looming rocky cliffs of Bosco ahead of them, they knew all they needed to.


	5. A Call to Arms: Part II

It wasn't so much that he was a coward.

Rather, Locke was just a pretty average guy, he always thought. Who, fine, yes, did hail from one of the extraordinary guilds and with a last name that carried some weight in important circles, but other than that, he found himself to be rather...bland.

That's what Haven called him, sometimes, to get under his skin. While it didn't work as immediately and effectively as some of her other insults, it did dig at him late at night sometimes. When he considered how _not_ bland the woman was and how that must be why then, right? That she was constantly running out on him? Or thinking about it?

It went deeper though, than just his tangled mess of a relationship with Haven. While being a mage felt like a rather interesting profession, it was more gifted to him, passed on to him, inherited, than it was anything he chose. He enjoyed it and loved helping others whenever he could, but he imagined he'd have loved just about anything. If his father had run a bakery, he'd be all about that. His mother run a library? Stocking books the rest of his life. But his parents didn't do that. So neither did he.

His call for adventure was strong, anyways, and he was grateful for his upbringing and the freedoms it provided, especially considering they led directly to his life currently. He could imagine him baking bread, stocking books, but he couldn't imagine quelling the drive inside of him to discover new things and visit new places.

But...that hardly made a true personality. Sometime Locke felt as if he didn't have one. At all. He was nice. Mostly. And caring. His mother always told him that he was a loyal person, and smart too, but again, those felt just so…

Bland.

Again.

He felt interchangeable with most every other young guy down at the guild for the majority of his life. And maybe even less useful than some of the others as, though he did know some offense spells, many of his main were were based in support magic. His father did little to help these insecurities, as he prodded any time he saw the boy practicing spells related to it, and it had just always been a sore spot for him.

Then, when relating to those who weren't associated with the guild, Locke still felt rather lackluster. Especially with girls. When he got to the age it was important, he could get them well enough, in the beginning, but things always somehow soured rather quickly in most of his relationships, even those he had in those years after Haven fled Magnolia. Girls always thought he was cute and liked that he could buy them things, but they almost always bored of him and on a deeper level, he found he could rarely openly express himself in an intriguing way.

Locke's father was special. Very special. And had a distinct way about him. People knew Black Steel Gajeel. For better or worse. But who the fuck knew Locke?

Becoming S-Class had meant so much to him. So much. It would be how he made his mark. Proved himself. His entire childhood, he was either known as one of the 'slayer kids' or Black Steel's son or, worse, just the oldest Dreyar girl's friend, but by becoming S-Class? By being considered one of the top mages in one of the top guilds?

It meant that he was someone.

That he was an actual mage, a serious one, and that he mattered and was more than just someone's son or friend. He was his own person.

Sometimes Locke felt like he just got mushed into whatever person he was teamed up with, supporting them not only with his magic, but with his entire being. His plights and exploits were never the main focus of a job and he was stuck in the background.

But not now.

Now he was the S-Class wizard that landed Haven the job. He was the important one.

Or at least he thought he was.

Astra had fucked over Haven, badly, but still seemed far more interested in her and her contributions than him. She didn't seem to think of Locke as adding anything to the group and he imagined that had he not forced his way onto the current mission, he'd be sitting back on the sidelines with Xay and Richard, still running medic checks and doing little else.

Now he was here and he was in charge and he was...not prepared.

At all.

Richard talked to him the entire way to the boarder and even accompanied him part of the way through the country. There was an air, that first day, of something he'd forgotten the past few months, if not the past year or two. Jobs were so much fun for him, back before all the shit Haven brought about, during the Monster Gauntlet, and though this was a rather serious one, there was that same bubbling in his stomach about the idea of traveling somewhere new, somewhere so exciting, and to do what he did best. Finally.

He was an excellent medic. He didn't feel boastful with admitting to that fact. It was what he'd practiced at since he was a boy. But it was far from all he was. Being a mage, a guild wizard, went far beyond just your base magic.

And fuck, it had been so long since he got to do some real guild work.

Maybe he was naive. Or ignorant. Focused in on his own gains, in once more being an asset, and therefore ignoring the potential to suffering. But it felt like a punch in the gut, the first time he witnessed it.

It was at the train station.

Richard and he were standing by, him rocking on his feet some, just observing their surroundings. He hadn't seen many with those markings on their arms, denoting their 'owned' status, but he had seen a few. Carrying bags or following along behind non-owned people. Silent. So far. As Haven had mentioned to him.

While this did leave a sour feeling in the pit of his stomach, it wasn't until he witnessed a young child, a marking denoting his arm, sobbed while a woman with a contorted snarl hit at him, insisting that he knock it off and pick up the bag at his feet; that they had to get home and he didn't want her husband to hear about it.

The scene made a pit pool in the man's stomach, but he wasn't quite sure why at first. He could remember being a little boy throwing a fit in public places, much tot eh chagrin of either parent he were with. Especially his father. But this went further than that, didn't it? He just knew.

"We're all kids once," was all Richard remarked when, noting where the other man's gaze was directed, he tapped Locke roughly on the shoulder. "Even the marked."

The marked.

The silent.

Haven called them the latter to better distance herself from the reality of she'd gone through while Richard referred to them as the former to separate himself from the reality of what he was actively participating in, but Locke felt like both undercut what was really going on.

They were slaves, int eh purest form of the word.

And, as he swallowed this sight, fighting every urge to come to the little boy's aid, he knew he wouldn't allow himself to soften the blow this realization brought about.

This was about more than just him proving himself. Getting back to himself. Falling back into the groove of things.

This was about something far more than just him and as it took embedding his fingernails into his palms, he boarded the train reminded of exactly what was awaiting him.

Richard ditched out a stop before the one he was intended to get on, reminding Locke that he was there to look out for the girls, yes, but also to try and get some personal info on some of the top families.

"Plus," the other guy joked with an ease Locke lacked in that moment, "I put my neck on the line to get you this job, huh? Don't fuck it up. Until, you know, it's time to fuck shit up."

Locke made a face when the other man patted him roughly on the back, but kept quiet.

He met another man at his final stop into the heart of Bosco. Wick was what he wanted to be called and he addressed Locke by the surname he'd been provided; Hux. It felt harsh and short, not unlike his given name.

Wick wasn't much of a talker. He was older than Richard, even, and had a stern, lightless glare in his eyes regardless of the talking. His dark, cropped hair was gelled down and looked almost reflective, as they walked through the Bosco streets to an awaiting carriage. Barking something at the man who held the reigns, Wick then sat in the carriage, Locke across from him, and it felt like a long journey to the manor.

He wasn't quite sure what to expect, honestly, Locke wasn't. He'd been so worried about himself, at first, and then the slaves, that he never stopped to consider the rough men he was going to be expected to become an associate to. Wick offered no conversation and seemed to be meditating, almost, as he sat stalk still, eyes shut, and breathing even. Though he could feel no magic radiating off the man, Locke did note the pistol that was holstered at his hip and imagined he'd be seeing a lot of that in the coming weeks.

The property felt endless as they rolled past the stone and iron gates, and Locke only stared out of the carriage in subdued wonder. There weren't people working out in fields, being abused and crying out. Rather, there was only the same bright golden sun that followed him most his life, set against the equally brilliant blue-hued sky. It felt different here, of course, Bosco did, as magic was not nearly as abundant and didn't stream into his body at every turn, but Locke only made certain to remember this, as not to overdue it in his usage; he didn't want to be left without any.

"Where are all the slaves?" he asked in what was a rather dumb comment, maybe, but it seemed to play into his 'young foreign guy in exotic new country' vibe as Wick smiled at this, a sickening, sneering one, but didn't peek open his eyes. Just kept with that same rhythmic breathing. In and out. In and out.

They came to a stop before what Locke could only think to compare to a guildhall, honestly. It was nothing short of a mansion, honestly, spanning what looked to be three stories with a massive front porch that wrapped around the property. Two men, dressed in the same slick, dressy way as Wick stood on either side of the entryway door and didn't break their gaze fixed on the horizon to glance Locke over while he, without a doubt, did them.

"Far from Fiore, huh, boy?" Wick questioned as, after they stepped out of the carriage, Locke took some long glances around. With a bit of a huff, Wick started up towards the house. "Come on then. Ain't got all day."

He led him inside, passed those two guards who did little other than nod curtly to Wick, and to what was, shockingly enough, actually a very empty place.

The first floor was a set of four, large rooms, branching off from the foyer. There was a lounge of some sort, with a long, sleek sofa and cozy fire place, as well as a kitchen that Locke could just glimpse inside, where some women were working at preparing a meal. On the other side of the foyer, two other doorways stood, one leading to a room that glowed a soft blue hue and, to Locke's surprised, seemed to be some sort of arcade, pinball machines and the like humming softly along with the random, repetitive chatter and musical numbers that certain ones produced. This felt shocking and out of place, especially when the final room seemed to be a library of sorts, but before Locke could consider any of them very deeply, there was a clearing of throats.

It came from be back of the foyer area where a single staircase led up to the second floor. Down it in that moment strode a guy not too much older than Locke, if at all, dressed sharply in a bright red suite that he quite clearly thought was something special. He was still styling himself it seemed as he was running a comb through his gelled hair, slicking it back as he eyed Locke with a cocky grin adorning his face.

"Wick," he spoke to the other man instead, a bit of laughter hanging onto his tone. Jumping some as he came to a stop at the bottom of the staircase, the man's green eyes were bright as they said, "Poppin' the new meats cherry, are ya?"

There were two other men, following along behind the red suited guy, but they only stood slightly behind him, the same fixed stare that the two men outside had. While Locke frowned some at the man's words, Wick only nodded his head with a bit of a grunt.

"Yeah, boss," he grumbled. "Just arrived."

"Heh." Slipping his comb into the pocket of his inner suit jacket, he came forwards then, nodding then to Locke. "Hutch was it?"

Clearing his throat some, Locke held out his hand. "Hux."

"Hux." When he was close enough, the man before him grasped the medic's hand tightly, shaking it vigorously before remarking, "Hope ya stick around some. Be good to have some fresh blood in the place. Well, more blood, anyways."

He snickered then, the man did, but the laugh sounded hollow and fake. Just as quickly, and with a bit of a whistle, he was continuing on, over to the library, where the door was promptly shut by one of the other two men who followed in behind him.

Wick took Locke on a tour of the house, which for as large as it was, didn't seem to be much. The first floor felt self-explanitory and, the second seemed to just be rooms. He was shown to his, which had a bed and a desk where he left his things, as well as pointed in the direction of a bathroom. When they started back down the stairs, however, Locke thought to question the man, just a bit.

"What about the third floor?" he asked and, again Wick made the same grunting noise.

"Boss's suite."

"The whole floor?"

"Like a...penthouse," was the best Wick seemed to be able to describe it. "Don't worry about it. Don't concern you." But he paused, oddly, after saying that, and glanced back at Locke with a shrug. "Or, well, when it does, you'll understand."

Given the other man's tone of voice, Locke wasn't so sure that he wanted to.

They went outside after that, the man detailing Locke's job to him. Mostly, it seemed to be a lot of patrolling and he tried hard not to deflate at the thought as, after all, it was the bulk of what he was leaving behind at the safe house.

Once they made it to the back of the mansion though, where Wick produced some cigarettes that he didn't even offer a nab at to Locke, just lit one up for himself and took a few quick puffs of, Locke took note of another building that had been eclipsed by the expansive house before it.

"What's that building?" he questioned of the one that sat behind the manor.

It looked to be a windowless, brick structure at first glance, but Locke did note, after more than just a curious once-over, the slits towards the top where slender rectangular glass streamed in just a bit of outdoor light. From their view on the back porch, Locke saw a woman, once, open the single front door on the structure, exit with a box of some sort and head to the back of the building, before returning empty handed and entering once more. She made no motion towards them on the porch and Locke fought the urge to raise a hand in greeting.

"Work," Wick replied simply to his question.

"What do you mean? What kind of work?" Locke asked, partially playing up his role as, while he wasn't certain of the horrors beyond the building's walls, he could imagine them somewhat.

He grunted, as he seemed prone to, Wick did, before taking a longer puff at his cigarette and remarking simply, "Locking fucking way from damn Fiore, boy."

While he knew this for certain, Locke mostly felt a long way from Haven and Shae's arrival, which he kept track of, marking the days off in his head as he spent his first week on the manner cutting his teeth in more ways than one.

But it wasn't as if they were going through anything pleasant either. Far less, in most regards.

Luka's man, Frank, rowed them ashore before leading them to an assigned meeting place nearby. After a short trek up the rocky beach (which, chained together, was a trick all by itself), Frank lead them through the surrounding wilderness under the aid of a map. It was as they neared a tiny wooden shack that, finally, he seemed to shed his aloof persona and instead got a bit of a darker glint in his eyes.

There was another man awaiting them there, a mage, Haven could feel it, who looked bone thin and had rather intricate tribal tattoos adoring most of his body, face included. He was shirtless, arms folded tightly over his pale chest, while his eyes were gray and lifeless. Deadened. When he opened his mouth to bark at them, upon their approach, his yellow teeth stood prominently out, highlighting, in particular, those that were missing.

They had an exchange of words, the man and Frank did, as Haven and Shae, drench in sticky sweat in the sweltering heat of summer, stood by, chained and silent. They had a disagreement of sorts, Frank and the man did, per Luka's request of the former, over the jewels exchanged. She wanted it to appear as if it were a purely money funded venture and nothing more.

Bones, as Haven heard Frank refer to the slaver, stuck to his guns and Frank relented, though he warned the wrath of Luka.

"Fuck," Bones growled with an accent Haven couldn't quite place, not well versed in the vast lands of Bosco, "Luka."

There was an agitation then, from Frank. The man tensed in a strange way, biting back what he wanted to say and do in that moment. There were none more loyal, so Haven had observed so far, than Luka's crew to the woman herself. Still, Frank had been given an order and, words dying off between his clenched teeth, he did eventually move to unchain Haven and Shae before snatching some cicles from Bones and turning his back on them all.

It was always so strange, the second bonds were released. Especially after wearing them for an extended period of time. Haven even stumbled forwards a bit, as they were released from her wrists, more concerned with rubbing at the soreness now forming there than Frank's departure.

The man had just disappeared into the surrounding forest when, as Shae watched his retreat, Bones only turned to give each of the women a once over. It seemed that Haven's rubbing at her wrists wasn't taken well as, after a beat, he suddenly sprang forward, slamming his fist into Haven's jaw. He was a frail man, but there seemed to be some sort of magic behind the punch as it caused Haven to stumble forwards some.

Shae tensed, not because she thought that the other woman was truly hurt, but rather fearful of Haven's reaction. She could tell in the way that Have let out a short, exaggerated huff of breath that, under normal circumstances, this would be the start of a brawl, but it didn't seem to progress that far this time.

No.

Rather, Haven only glared at the man, hate in her eyes and swelling in her jaw, but silent otherwise. Bones, for his part, only laughed and chuckled before sniffling some and rubbing at his nose.

"Been around before, ah?" he snickered before nodding roughly to the tiny shack behind him. "Inside. Both of you. Don't make any fuckin' trouble for me, else you'll get more where that came from."

The shack was nothing more than a rundown, one-room wooden structure which housed, at least at that moment, five other women caught in a similar situation as Shae and Haven. They were seated, in a line, along the back wall, chained together, while another stalked around the rest of the area. When Shae pushed into the door, he tensed, glared at them from behind his dark shades, before going back to his pacing.

"Sit," was all he growled at them, nodding at where the other women were all lined up.

They looked frightened, most of them, and one was still openly sobbing, sniveling, honestly now, and Haven imagined the bruising lining her face was residuals from when her cries were much louder. While she was the one most openly terrified, most the others eyes mimicked the same, whether they displayed this openly or not.

Haven tried hard to mimic it as, with a bit of caution, she and Shae both claimed their spots. But it was difficult. Because she'd felt terror before, true terror, and while this situation, this horrific setting, lost in the middle of nowhere with two maniac madmen aided in the law over just what torture they were about to endure. The continuation of it.

But for as cagey and strange as these men were, they were hardly who Haven felt the most concern over. In the immediate, were things to turn too far south, she was certain she and Shae, magic or not, chained or not, could retain order and control of the situation. Compared to the helplessness she'd felt at Ewing's manor, this was nothing more than playing pretend. Putting on for a young child. Pretending yourself helpless to the belief of another.

It wasn't true.

As one woman sobbed and the others sat in a stony, heavy silence, Haven knew their fears weren't founded. Nothing would happen to them. Nothing would get too far. She wouldn't let it.

The man that stalked about the room seemed to twitchy and agitated as Bones, but just in a different way. He seemed less focused in on them and more on muttering to himself, stomping back and forth before them, standing guard, but not paying much attention.

Not exactly the fear striking slavers the blonde was expecting.

But it wouldn't be long before she was face to face with an actual threat.

He arrived with three or four men, the head slaver did. His name was Bishop and he had a thick beard to match his thick neck. A hulk of a man, Bishop was just dripping with magic, so much so that it almost felt oppressive to Haven, similar to how her friend Ravan had felt, all those years ago in Crocus, when he'd first implanted his lacrima. While she didn't doubt her natural magical abilities, saddled only with her still not fully realized transformations, she wasn't quite sure how it would go, if things went south with Bishop and his men.

"New stock, Bones?" he questioned the other men as Bishop leered in the doorway at the woman. Snorting a bit, he remarked, "You didn't rough 'em up too badly, did ya? These ones are headed to The Factory; don't gotta be pretty, but fuck do they gotta be able to work."

"Ain't touched 'em none, nope, never." Then Bones, who was leering in too, made a bit of a sneering remark as he said, "No more than I should."

Any relief in leaving Bones and his friend behind ad the cabin was vanquished as the women were loaded between two wagons and drive off, through the dense forest, along with Bishop and his men. It was a long bumpy ride, in which Bishop and his men joked and prodded at the women in little ways, but the threats felt hollow and Haven had a feeling their next (and hopefully final) stop hinged on them being appropriate for purchase.

The mansion they rolled onto was a different than Ewing's manor. Less flashy in most ways. They were met at the gate by a man with a gun slung over his back and dark sunglasses, who had a stack of money to trade off with Bishop while his men shoved the women out of the wagons. There was another woman standing there already, her slave marking visible, and she kept her eyes trained to the ground as Bishop's men shoved all five women off towards her, but the second their backs were turned, her eyes were upon Haven and the others.

It had been a long day of being shifted around for Shae and Haven, an even longer one for the other three women they were with, and as the sun was just beginning to set, they were finally being fed a taste of to whom they'd been sold.

The sun was setting over the property while Bishop and his men loaded back into their wagons. Haven tried hard not to let her eyes drift towards them fleeing, perhaps residuals from the strike from Bones earlier. But maybe something more. Because as his oppressive magic dissipated with his departure, Haven still found she had a low, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach relating to it.

Bishop...Bones… She knew it wouldn't be the last tangling she had with their band of slavers.

There wasn't a lot of time to focus on any of that however. The man who'd traded off the money with Bishop barked something at the woman who was there to greet them, along the lines of hurrying it all up, and she only bowed her head once more in response.

He seemed rather trusting of her though as, without much thought, he handed off the keys to the chains that bound the others, ordering her to show them around before having them return to the barracks with the others.

Still, he lingered for a moment, just to give them all a cold, warning stare before heading off, back for the house.

"What is this place?" one of the women who'd come with Haven ventured, a slight, blonde with a voice hardly above a whisper, the second the man was too far to hear.

"This," the other woman explained to them all simply, "is The Factory."

"But what does that mean?" Shae insisted as this was now the second time they'd heard that term. She'd been rather quiet the whole time, observing. While Haven had zeroed in on the men they'd so briefly been associated with, she found herself studying the face and listening to the cries of the women they were left with. While Haven's mage years led to "Factory of what?"

But as she began to speak, one of the other women who'd just arrived spoke up instead.

"I've heard of this place," she remarked with a glare around at it. Rubbing awkwardly with one hand at the fresh marking on her arm, she said, "The Harval family ran illegal strains of papavars into the smaller countries and used to farm it here."

"Used to," the other woman agreed, nodding her head. "Decades ago. Under the older Harval family. Now the son is in control and the Kingdom of Bosco is much more conscious."

"Of some things," Haven muttered as she took a good look around for herself. "If we're not farming poppy, what are we doing?"

"Working." She began to walk then, turning from them with the expectation that they follow. It wasn't like they were left much choice. The woman who claimed to know the place, a dark-haired tall woman who Haven couldn't say for certain, but was nearly sure hailed from Fiore, was the first to fall into step with her. "We get in shipments of fabric and hand sew them. It is not hard work and is easy to pick up."

She paused then, the woman did, and stopped walking. When she turned back to look at the rest of them, Haven thought that it was to scold them for not falling in immediate step with her, but instead, she took a long glance around of her own before saying simply, "Stay away from the men. Both the Master and his bodyguards. And especially Master Alwood, should he return."

"Master," the woman with the bruise face whispered, the concept clearly still not quite familiar with her.

Haven though frowned. That name. Alwood…

Why did she know that name?

"You do as I," the woman was insisting to them then, "and the other women tell you and you will be fine. Forget your life outside of these gates. This is your home now."

This statement set the bruised woman into another round of hysterics, sobbing into her hands while the others glanced uneasily among themselves. But the woman was insistent then, that they hurry along and do as they were told; it was time to view The Factory.

Haven found herself somewhat unimpressed with what they were shown. Just a wooden building from the outside and, inside, rows of sewing machines and women filtering around, very busy with a variety of garments. The building had only slits for windows, up towards the top of it, casting long, sad shadows into the place. Fire lacrimas were used to provide additional light and Haven, already could see how that could, potentially, present a problem.

They wouldn't be assigned a station in the chaotic scene just yet as, rather, the day was winding down for the workers and they were instead directed back to a barracks, a better, more spaced out structure than Haven had been sentenced to at the Ewing place, but it's own private hell in another.

Most of the women were older than she and Shae. By a good number of years. It felt intentional too, maybe. There were a few young women, here or there, but the majority were nearing the middle of their life and probably presented less resistance as a whole.

Fire lacrima lit up the bunk house as well and Haven and Shae found their place at the two, long tables in the back of the building, where they were presented with small portions of food and little talk was to be had. The place had the same dank, beaten down oppressive nature as the Ewing manor, but it seemed stranged to Haven that the supposed bodyguards didn't appear to be featured as much. She hadn't seen them in 'The Factory' nor were they the ones rationing the food.

It some of the women. Specific women. Who'd told the others when the day ended and those same women who passed out the rations. They sat together, three of them, at a smaller table nearby, speaking softly. The woman who'd originally greeted them was among the trio. Haven stuck close to Shae, or perhaps it was the other way around. Either way, they both sat together though the other women they'd been brought over with dispersed among the two tables.

Time felt so much longer, when it was so quiet.

While the trio were of interest, Haven found that honestly, really, she was most disappointed in the fact the guards weren't around as much solely because Locke was meant to be among them. She knew he was nearby, but close, and though she was sure the man was alright, there was still a longing to be certain.

Shae, however, spent the first night focused in on something entirely different. While she wanted to take down the regime and destroy the slavers in Bosco, there was something much more pressing that always took precedence for her.

She had that small photograph, the one she'd presented to Jed back at base, producing it from where she'd hidden it in her bra, and showed it off to anyone who would look at it, referring to her mother by name, hoping for some kind of info.

But there didn't seem to be any.

"Most people here," one of the women offered her with a bit of a sigh and the shake of her head, "have been here a long time. I've been here since I was...your age, I'd imagine. Under the other Master. Maybe someone recent saw her the last place they were, but who remembers a face here?"

Shae nodded easily at this and even agreed with the woman, but Haven, who was hovering about during this conversations felt a strange sense to further the conversation with the woman. It was rare that she found herself so interested in the tales of other people (especially if they weren't exploits, listened to purely to boast one of her own) and after all that had gone down with Astra, she really wasn't looking to be too friendly with any of the team.

But this felt different. No one had outright explained to her the situation about Shae and her mother, but at the same time, Haven had no witnessed on separate occasions her questioning others about it and she could more than piece together what was going on.

There was a pond on the back of the property and, at nightfall, the women all went out together to bathe in it. After long days in the stuffy shop, this felt like a near necessity, and even for the women who'd just arrived, the summer heat left them with a need for it.

Neither spoke on it, but both Haven and Shae were wise enough to hang back, not going with all the others out to the pond. Instead, they sat on the bunks they'd both been assigned, waiting for the few stragglers to head out as well before, eventually, Haven jumped down from the top bunk she'd been given and instead made her way over to where Shae sat on her own bottom one.

As Haven came to stand before her, Shae thought to mention something about their journey so far. Though they effectively knew little to nothing, she did find somethings of interest. But as always, Haven found it best to speak first.

Arms crossed over her chest, she paced a bit, before the other woman's bunk, as she remarked, "I'm, you know...about your….well…."

"My what? What are you talking about?"

"Your… The photo that you keep showing everyone and asking about." Haven shrugged some. "I didn't really know, when you were asking Jed about it, what it was about. If you think I was being rude then-"

"Didn't really notice if you were or not. Were you there? When I spoke to him?," the other woman asked her simply, rather stiff now as they spoke about her mother. "Not everyone's focused in on you all the time."

This stifled the blonde and, with a huff, her pacing stopped as she turned to look at the other woman head on. Glaring at her then, she said, "Tomorrow we're going to get our job details. I imagine we'll both be working the sewing machines in that stupid shop. While we're there, we both need to try and suss out who're the easiest people to get on our side and also who seems to be in charge around here. Those three that ate dinner together tonight seem to hold some power. If we could get in good with them-"

"The one that unlocked us," Shae cut her off, "I heard some of the others muttering about her. After dinner."

"Anything good?"

"Just to be careful about her. Her name's Glory," she replied. "Her and the three of them… They don't seem to like them much."

"Yeah, well," Haven sighed some, glancing to the door, "no one ever likes me either. It comes with being in charge of people. And I'm pretty sure they wield some sort of power around here. I'll get in good with them while you-"

"And who exactly," Shae questioned, "are you in charge of again?"

"A lot of people," Haven retorted easily, but she felt a slight twinge of unease as she continued the lie. "Back in my guild. Loads. They can hardly function without me."

"Yeah, well," Shae remarked as she glanced down at the magical marking that now adorned her arm, "you're not in your guild now, are you?"

"No." Sighing some, she began pacing again. "I'm not."

"You're not in charge of me," Shae told her simply. "I'll do what I need to do and you focus on whatever you want. We're going to be here awhile, remember? If you really think that you're going to get in good with three old ladies, have at it."

She swallowed this in silence for a good few seconds, Haven did, before saying, "This might not be the best time to say it, but… I have no idea how to sew."

Shae stared for a moment before letting out a small chuckle. It made Haven frown before, composing herself, the other woman said, "Neither do I."

Relaxing some, Haven even smiled, maybe. At least didn't look so grim, as she remarked, "Then I guess that's what we'll spend the next few days doing. Both of us. Figuring it out."

Nodding, Shae said, "We don't want to get in trouble."

"I might have to get into a little," Haven said. Mostly because she always did, but also because, "The guards seem rather lax here. Which means they didn't filter around as much. I need to find Locke and find out if he's discovered anything. Has any good info, all that."

"Is that why?"

Haven's hand came up to her neck, but she was prepared this time, when all she was met with was her own flesh. Running a hand over her chest, she replied, "That's why."

The night came on and Haven found herself lying awake, listening to the random coughs and snores of those amassed. She was scared, her first night on the Ewing manor, but here? Here she was determined. The next morning was the beginning of some real work and she couldn't wait.

Except for, you know, the whole sewing thing.

She really couldn't see herself being any good at that sort of thing.

And she wasn't.

After a small meal around the tables, the trio eventually led the other women back into the shop, where Haven, Shae, and the other women who'd been brought in with them were given their marching orders. There were three main stations; sewing, checking, and filling.

Shae lucked out on getting the checking portion of things. Which meant she'd have to go over articles of finished clothing, to check seams and such. She even seemed to make a face of victory at Haven when the typically blonde woman found herself being stuck behind a machine that she did not know how to work, at all, and was thoroughly frustrated by.

She never had been a good student.

Still, as Haven found herself utterly inept, she thought that maybe if she sucked hard enough, they'd assign her to filling, which seemed to consist of folding and boxing garments. She felt like she'd be great at that.

Or at least better than sewing…

The concept seemed easy enough. Run some fabric through a machine, and bam! You've sewn something. But it wasn't turning out that way for Haven and she was only growing more and more aggravated.

She was going to fast.

She was forgetting the back stitch.

How could she possibly get something stuck in the machine?

Was she even trying?

It was only as the woman who was supposed to be assisting her started to speak in an exasperated tone that Haven realized her inequalities were having an adverse affect. If she was too much of a problem, then there was no way that she'd win much of anybody and the whole uprising thing hinged on her figuring it out.

But sewing was stupid and she hadn't even wanted to do it anyways and why couldn't shit just go and smash the stupid 'Master's' damn face in and be done with it?

Because she was working as a team and, as a team, they'd decided that the best course of action was returning power to the (momentarily) powerless which, of course, had been her idea, and why hadn't she just volunteered herself to bum rush the Bosco capital and impose her own rule of law?

The idea alone carried her through the majority of the morning and into the afternoon. Sewing was bunk and she was just going to ditch out on it and take over the country already, the world, probably, and it made her feel better. To think that this was possible. That she could just blast through anyone who stood in her way and effectively enact change. All alone.

She wasn't all alone.

It was during a break, where the women were sitting out in the grass in front of the 'The Factory', trying to cool off as they ate stale sandwiches under the hot sun. The break was coming to an end and they were lining back up to go inside. Shae was standing behind her and had seemed to be fitting in far better with some of the women she was working around, and they'd even seemed to be having a hushed conversation, her and another woman, during their slight meal.

That was a good way to bring Haven right back down because this was a game of how well you could interact with others. And she'd never been good at that. At all. She could claw her way out of most anything...other than human interactions.

But there was one that had been nagging at her, since she arrived, and when two guards came walking by, Haven keyed in on him almost immediately.

They'd worked so closely together for all of their youth, been closer than that for the end of it, that they could nearly sense when the other was around. It had more to do with their magical energies, probably, but Haven always felt it stronger with him than any other person. Just the slightest hint of it had her head springing up and she had to bite back her words at the sight of her boyfriend.

Because his head was shaven. Not to mere fuzz, like he used to wear it, but more crew cut and it was startling, maybe, to see him in that way so suddenly, but she imagined it was harder for him, as though he was walking with another guy, he stopped suddenly, to glance among the women. He might have sensed her, maybe, but Haven banked just as heavily on him having spotted Shae who, after seeing him, was being certain to look away, as not to draw any suspicions.

If Shae was near then…

Haven looked different now. She was transformed. And he knew that he would be, but he'd been certain that no matter what, he'd be able to pick her out. Even if she looked entirely different. There was a pressure now though, as he was doing something he wasn't supposed to be, just standing there, gawking at the women it looked like, maybe, and the guy he was walking with, Anderson, frowned some as he glanced back at him.

"Hux." His partner turned to glare over at him before at where the women were lining up. "You alright, man?"

"N-No, I just… My shoe." Locke sprang down then, to quick untie it. "There's, like, a rock or something in it and it's digging into my sole and I just-"

"Catch up." Anderson clearly didn't care much, giving the other guy a bit of a shrug. "I'll be at the gate."

"The gate, yeah," Locke agreed and though he was now, a bit ridiculously, tugging his shoe off, his eyes were on the women as his partner's back was given to him. "I'll meet you at the..."

He trailed off as he found her. It felt too easy, smiling some as he did so. Her hair was short and brown and her face wasn't exactly the same, hardly passing as such, and her eyes weren't so bright and blue, but it didn't matter as she was staring back at him, across the way.

It had...been a long week.

She nodded, Haven did then, but not in greeting. Rather, it was towards something, it seemed like, as her head jerks were deliberate, and Locke glanced that way, noting the shed that stood nearby the women's work building. He imagined it housed excess supplies. When he looked back to her, Haven held up some fingers.

Four of them.

She wanted to meet at four. He wasn't sure how she'd keep time like that, much less get away, but it didn't matter. Because there'd be no way he could.

Shaking his head quickly, he held up his own fingers, flashed them, seven of them, and it felt like a good chance, maybe. The women would be leaving the building around then and he would hopefully be free, as he had been the night before.

It still sounded really risky and stupid, but Haven nodded and then looked away. Quickly. The women were headed back inside the building and he was just left sitting there, shoe in hand, but with a new directive.

And having been given by the only person that really mattered.

The next few hours felt worst than the last few weeks for Locke, as he felt a sick dread in his stomach, and he was such a rule follower. That's what Haven always told him. It was why, when they were kids, she said he'd never make a good mage. A working one, at least.

There were just rules that you had to break if you were going to get anything done in this life. For young Haven, this had been the majority of them, honestly, but it wasn't as if he could find fault in the core of what she meant.

Unjust rules weren't rules at all; they were tyranny. And while he hadn't been treated too abhorrently while he was working on the manor nor had he seen the women abused too awfully, there was an undercurrent of unacceptability in the entire operation. Slavery was an anomaly to him, abolished in his country long before his time, and even just sleeping on the same property where the practice was utilized made him uneasy.

But there was a certain protection in indifferent. Divergence. If he just kept to himself, avoided going around the women too much, then it was almost like he was being paid to patrol a mostly empty mansion with some questionable history, fine, but also no outward things to object to. He'd been instructed to blend and not cause problems, so he'd been doing this.

Now, he was meant to break away, to discuss things with Haven, and he just worried about getting caught. Not really the repercussions he'd face, as he was certain he could extradite himself at any time, but rather Haven and the other women. Not to mention, it could ruin the overall plan.

If Haven was fighting to figure out this sewing stuff, he was fighting to ignore his typical response to things and push himself beyond previous limits. If it was for the greater good, he could do it.

And he was certain this was.

Escaping that evening was easy enough. The sun was beginning to set and the evening guys were getting ready for patrol, but so far, Locke had mostly been assigned to stick around the house. The easy stuff. He wasn't expected to interact with the women or any visitors. Just keep his head low, Wick instructed, and most challenging work would appear with time.

He wasn't quite sure what he'd say, as he exited the house that night, if someone questioned what he was doing. Going for a stroll? Maybe hiding a nicotine habit? Something, again, about his shoe?

But this seemed to be a non-issue, as none of the other men were interested with him and, as he exited through the back entrance to head towards the shed, there didn't seem to be much of anyone around. He could see the women, further away, walking towards the bunk house. But he only quickened his pace, less fearful and now a with a bit of anticipation.

She was there, of course. Or at least a version of herself. A transformation. Standing in the tiny, lightless shed, squinting some when he opened the door. When he took to just staring at her though, her face contorted and it was definitely the woman he knew.

"Close the door, idiot," she growled, reaching out to tug him in. "Damn, you're terrible at this."

"Haven." Locke didn't mind her tugging because it made it easier to fall into the woman, pulling her tightly into her arms. "Err, well, what's your name now? Huh?"

"To you? Doesn't matter. I'm nobody."

But she didn't feel like nobody as he nuzzled his head against hers.

"You look so...different," he admitted softly when she pulled away. Reaching out to ghost a hand over her bruised cheek, he said, "Your eyes and face and… Are you… Did you kinda buff yourself out?'

"If you can be whoever you want," Haven huffed at him, "why wouldn't you tone yourself a bit?"

"You're still you," Locke assured her softly, but it only got him shoved. "Hey-"

"It's been, what? Hardly over a week. You haven't missed me that much." Crossing her arms then, Haven looked off as she added, "So tell me how everything's been?"

"You first," she insisted. "Tell me about-"

"No way."

"Locke, we don't have time to- Stop it!"

She slapped his hand away with a glare when he'd raised it once more to her cheek, but this time with a magic circle coming from his palm. He was determined though, raising it again, but this time Haven only grasped his wrist.

"You can't heal me."

"Why not? Your jaw is swollen and who even did this to you? Someone here? Because-"

"The slavers that sold me. And I'm fine. It hardly even hurts."

"Have-"

"I can't just come back magically healed." She shifted her hand then, to fold his into hers. "I'm alright. Nothing's happened for me yet. Except I can't fucking figure out the sewing machine, but… Do you have anything for me?"

"Well, I don't know how to sew either, but-"

"Locke-"

"Hux," he corrected. "I'm Hux here."

"Hux with the shaved head."

"It's not shaved." And it was dark in the shed, but she could swear he blushed some, reaching up to run a hand over his new cut. "It's how the guys wear it here. Everyone. It's a whole… They're kinda hazing me, right now, I think, but-"

"Real info, Locke," she insisted then. "I can walk you through your insecurities later."

"My insecurities? I didn't fucking change my body type."

"Locke-"

"The head guy here is Monty," the man finally seemed to start. "He walks around with this slicked back hair and these fancy suits and mostly seems to spend all his time either locked up in his penthouse suite or in his, like, stupid arcade. I don't know anything about his business practices or anything. I haven't really even spoken to the guy. But Wick is the head guard in charge. You've probably seen him. He's this real serious, stern older guy. Then there's Davis. He's the second in command. And Anderson is the guy that I get partnered up with a lot. He's nice, but-"

"None of these guys here are nice, Locke." Haven made a face before shaking her head. "Just… You're, like, in now, right? Kinda? Just keep building their trust. If you can get info on this Monty guy, great, but if not, I'm probably going to be part of the inner circle with the women soon, so who knows where that's going to lead-"

"You can't even figure out a sewing machine, Have," he pointed out. "I'd lower my expectations."

"And that's why you're a stupid little boy who can't get anything done."

"I'm S-Class," he reminded. "Don't make me pull rank."

"If you ever say that to me again," she warned, leveling her gaze and no, yeah, it didn't matter what color they were, they belonged to his girlfriend, "I'll end you. Understood?"

But he only grinned, wildly, but as he felt wrong for this, this entire moment and the enjoyment he was getting out of it. Turning his head some, he said, "You were right, you know?"

"I always am," she whispered, on command, but he only sneered.

"It's… I can't leave this place," he told her simply. "This country, I mean. Now that I'm here. Not until I fix it. And I know I can't, you know, just fix it. Especially not by remedying small moments. But it makes it so hard because-"

"Locke, I know. Okay? We'll have tons of time to talk about this later, but this isn't it." Still, she reached out then to grab his cheeks and pull him down for a kiss. It was over too quickly though, and then she was slipping around him.

"Hide in here for a few more minutes, alright? I have to get back." She peeked out the door before opening it. Glancing behind herself though, at the man, she only said, "We'll meet back here in two days. Same time. Same situation. If ever one of us isn't here within five minutes of meeting time, bail. Always. Okay? Get me some solid info on Monty if you can, but also start memorizing the other guards schedules and things you know about them. And stay safe. I… I love you."

"Love you too," he whispered, but she was already slipping away, back into the just darkening night.

Haven made her way quickly across the yard, not necessarily cautious, but more determined. If any of the guards stopped her, she reasoned she could easily explain away getting lost, being new and all. Her biggest fear was having been missed at dinner. But by the time she got back, they were all heading down to the pond and it was easy enough for her to fall right in line.

The pond was large enough for the women all to spread out and they mostly did, keeping in pairs of sorts. Haven sought to wade out in it alone, the small chip of soap clutched in her hand. She thought back to when they were forced to bathe this way back on the Ewing manor, before all the guards, and the idea made her blush again, shamed somehow over it, still, not truly that removed from it apparently.

"How's Locke?"

Haven tried not to frown when Shae came to bathe by her. "Fine. He's...useless, like normal, but he'll figure it all out."

Nodding, Shae tilted her head back, to stare up at the moon for a moment before saying, "I might have found something out. That could help us."

"What do you mean?"

"I kinda think I know why we're here," she explained. "Maybe. Most of these women here… They either were here under the former master or were dumped here, when they got too old for anything else. They're easy to control and give little resistance. So why were we brought here? Or those other women we came with? We're young and… I mean, we're...attractive enough, right? For...more than this."

"What are you saying?"

"The Master here, he has a club. A closed one. For women." Shae took in a breath before saying, "If you make the cut, you get to go up to his suite with the others. They all live up there. With him. And some of the guards that he… If one of us could get in there, imagine what we could learn. Sticking around here, invigorating the women here, that's a great idea, but working from the inside? With the Master-"

"You're dumping a lot of info all at once." Haven turned from her, bringing a hand up to her head. "How would we even do it? Get in there? And once we did-"

"I don't know. I just found out about it," the other woman responded. "But if we could attract him somehow-"

"He's never around. I haven't even seen him yet. The...Master or whatever. It was luck that we ran into Locke. So-"

"There must be a time when they pick between us. The new, younger women they brought."

"What happens to the ones they don't pick?"

"I don't," Shae repeated then, clearly beginning to get annoyed with her, "know. Look, I'm just saying, it would be a good idea for one of us to be chosen. If one stayed back here and one was working up top, then with your boyfriend hanging around… So if you want to get picked, you should probably, you know…work on your sex appeal."

The typically blonde looked at her then, her gaze rather dumb as she said, "What does that even mean? We work, apparently, in a windowless factory all day. And, I don't know if you've noticed, but I have already buffed myself out some. I'll probably be chosen right off the bat, so-"

"Haven…"

"What?"

"You've…been with other people before, right?" Shae asked then. "Than just Locke? He makes it seem like you were together since you were kids. And I only ask because-"

"I've been with lots of people." This came out of pure competitiveness, but after hearing it back, Haven frowned some. "Well, other guys. Than him. Yeah. We were together really young, but… We've been with other people too."

"Could you...be with someone? Else? Now?" Shae raised an eyebrow. "That's what it would entail, you know. You'd have to… Come on, Haven, don't make me say it."

"No, I know," she agreed if maybe, before, she hadn't really thought about it. "And… Fuck, Locke. If it's work, it's work."

But she didn't mean it. Not really. And she wasn't so sure if Shae did either. She didn't know the other woman too well, but the entire concept felt far too large to comprehend in such a short amount of time.

When they arrived back at the bunk house, Haven found an apple was left on hers and, when she glanced over at Shae from across the room, the other woman only nodded a bit. Climbing up into her bed, Haven tugged her threadbare blanket over her head, munched a bit on the piece of fruit, and reviewed the day.

So sewing was sucking shit, but Locke was alright and that was good. He was kind of whiny, but he was always kind of whiny, and just so long as he got back to her with guard postings and some tabs on Monty, there was little else that she could ask of him. Other than to be her backup.

He was always so good at that.

Now Shae had presented her with something to get out of sucking shit at sewing. Getting in with those stupid women sounded like a suckers prize now. Shae was better at connecting with people anyways. If Haven could get into a real inner circle and started working things from the top down…

But if she did get picked, if she did find her way into the penthouse then...then…

Then she'd have to have sex or whatever with the Master and his men and it wasn't any different, was it? Anywhere? Ever? Everything always went back to sex, back to rape, and oh gosh, she was freaking out because it felt a lot like Ewing manor, actually, now, and she was back in chains and she didn't know what was going to happen to her and no, worse, she was bound up, and she was so young back then, and she just wanted to go home, she should have never left home and if she'd never left home then...then…

She felt so vulnerable. At risk. Without her true magic. She thought that it would be enough, to be reverent of her demonic and transformation magic lingering beneath the surface, but it just wasn't. Electricity, when it was flowing properly inside her, helped her through many difficult moments in her life.

But now it felt stifled and she felt weak.

She was weak.

Maybe.

The next morning, she sought Shae out as they were walking to the building. Rushing to fall in step with her, she tried not to be too specific, instead only glancing off as she grumbled.

"I was thinking about...last night and… I don't think that I can, uh, you know… You should just focus on it. Alright?"

Shae frowned at her, not seeming to exactly understand, but she nodded all the same and Haven felt too cowardly, bowing out in this way, so early in the running, to think about much else that day.

Like improving on her sewing technique.

The woman who was helping her out the day before grew quite exasperated quickly and it took a lot out of Haven to, once more, curve her tongue. Remember who she was. Here. She wasn't the brute she was across the waters. No. She wasn't quite certain on her character here, but certainly, she couldn't bash heads with those around her.

Not if they were ever going to be of use.

Or, more like it, if she was ever going to be of use to them.

That's what was so fucked. After her panic the night before died down, Haven realized that not only might Shae be better suited for infiltrating the penthouse, but she was definitely a better fit down in the shop as well. She was stuck in the unforgiving reality she'd found herself in while on the Ewing manor.

It just wasn't enough. To be powerful and strong. Had it saved her in the end? Yes. But it wasn't what endeared her initially to the others. If she didn't want to weasel her way upstairs, then she was stuck actually putting work in down them and for how great the night before felt, when she was with Locke, now she was tasting defeat again and rejecting it wholly.

She wouldn't see Locke at all that day. Though she was glad he didn't do it, she'd kind of thought he'd try to time it so he was walking outside around the same time she was around. Or something. It was for the best, of course, that he didn't, but…

"Have you...been with a lot of guys before?"

Shae frowned at Haven as they bathed that night, making a face before sighing.

"No," she answered simply. "I haven't."

"Then what are you going to do when you get up there?" she questioned then. "I mean-"

"You chickened out. This morning. What other option is there?"

"I could go. I just..."

The other woman eyed her for a moment before going back to washing.

"It's like you said last night," Shae offered. "It's work. Right? Fuck everything else, it has to get done. If one of us could get in there, it could mean everything. Men talk, you know, when they're all...after-"

"What do you know about it?" Haven retorted. "Huh?"

"It's just a common thing people say," Shae defended with a bit of a huff. "You've never heard that? I mean, for someone that's been with so _many guys-"_

"Locke tells me everything anyways. All I have to do is ask. Literally anything." Haven tossed some water up to her face, breathing heavily through her nose. "Most the other times, the other people, were always… I've never tried to get at someone that way. If I want something from them, I just take it from them."

"Maybe we should take you to the palace then," Shae suggested dryly. "You can just take everyone's freedom from the King."

"I probably could," Haven boasted, having been set up for it far too easily. Still, looking off, she resounded, "But...I can't… If I got...chosen or whatever, to go up there, to the penthouse, I just-"

"It's your boyfriend, right?" Shae suggested. "You thought it over last night and realized he wouldn't go for it?"

"Locke doesn't go for half the shit I get myself into."

"You talk to him tomorrow, right?" Shae questioned. "Find out from him about it. How to get in and all of that. Or at least let him know that we know about it. I'm sure he's heard of it. He is a guard."

"He's Locke though. He hasn't heard shit or he would have told me. He doesn't keep secrets. That's my deal."

"Ask," was all Shae insisted. "You never know if you don't."

It was true enough and, after another day lackluster performance, Haven only had the shed to look forward to. She ducked away from the other women easily enough and it was only a tense minute or so before the shed door was cracked open and she was, once again, forced to accept Locke's new haircut.

"Hey," he greeted as he quickly slipped in. "I-"

"Do you fuck women up in the penthouse with the other guards?"

"What?"

"Well, you need to start." Haven pointed a finger at him. "If you don't gain their trust-"

"Haven, shut up. What are you even talking about now?"

He'd come forward to greet her with a hug or a kiss or something, but at her words, it was just a cold glare that got settled on. She only crossed her arms though and Locke could almost swear she'd made herself slightly taller as well. She seemed to fall differently against is figure.

"Shae found out that there's some sort of inner circle of women that your boss brings up to the penthouse to fuck or whatever and, supposedly, the guards do too."

"I don't know!"

"I know. That's the problem."

"Haven-"

"I need you to find out whatever you can about it," she said simply, resting that finger in the center of his chest now. Pressing down, she said, "Top priority."

"I'm not being other women. Or…hurting them. I'm doing that. What the other guys do. So-"

"You better not." She relented her poking. "But I do want information about it."

"Why?"

"Shae's going to infiltrate it."

"What? No. That's-"

"I was going to do it-"

"Haven-"

"-but I didn't want to listen to you whine and complain," Haven finished with a shrug of her shoulders. "I know how much that bothers you."

Narrowing his eyes, he said, "I don't know anything about this penthouse shit, but can I suggest, to both Shea and you, Haven, that it sounds like a really bad idea? To try and purposely get involved in something like that?"

"Did you forget that I purposely have gotten a branded twice now?"

"You're prone to stupid, risky shit, I guess."

"Did you get the other stuff I wanted from you? Hux?" She tapped her foot. "Schedules and some info on the Master-"

"I'm working on it."

"Locke-"

"It's a lot, okay? I did hear something though," he offered then with a shrug. "About someone coming. Another one of the head guys."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Alwood," he told her. "Some of the guys says he comes around ever few months. To check in on Monty. I don't really know much else about him, but-"

"Ewing."

"What?"

"He was at Ewing's manor," Haven said then, face becoming flush at the memory. "The night Ewing drugged me. I… He was the guy that was having a conversation in the study. And is...assistant, she…"

"Hey, take a breath." Reaching out then, Locke took her cheeks into his hands, sighing some as he frowned. "If this is too much for you-"

"Ewing was buddy-buddy with him. In a way I've never seen him with anyone else." Haven turned from his grasp. "That means that he's someone important. Find out what you can about him too."

"Right, so, I need to figure out everyone's schedule, help you infiltrate a sexually deviant lair, get dirt on said lair's ringleader, and get some info on some knew guy, who I don't even know, and apparently had something to do with abusing my girlfriend. Did I get all that?"

"You could work on your attitude too."

"Oh, yeah, whatever."

"Haven, are you okay?" He wasn't playing then. "Not even just the Alwood shit. I can tell something's bothering you. Are you-"

"I can't sew," she told him quickly, hoping to avoid the fact that, actually, she was still internally freaking out over the idea of being chosen and then what, then what would she do, because she couldn't do what she was going to have to do and that was just fucked because she felt like a completely different person sometimes and even though that's definitely what she wanted post-resurrection, sometimes it just scared her so much. "Or talk to people. Why were you such a shit friend that it made it to where I never learned how to make any others?"

"What?"

"I'll figure it out, okay?" Forcing a smile for him, she insisted, "Do what I asked. All of it. I expect perfection."

"Just outta everyone else."

"Everything I do is perfect, Locke. And if it's not, I didn't do it."

"Of course."

They parted on a kiss and a reminder to stay safe in the interim.

Shae wanted information the second Haven blended back in on the way to the pond, but once more, Locke hadn't been reliable. When she said this though, the other woman only made a face, looking off, and they'd had something of a rapport going before, but Haven felt off now, with the deeper implications of Alwood also looming over her head and it was all just a lot.

A lot of stuff that she wasn't able to run from and she hated that, because that's what she did. Or used to. Now she was facing things, before even coming to Bosco and especially in its realm.

Still, she was in a shitty mood the next morning and jumped a bit, when the woman at the machine beside her reached out a hand.

"I," she assured Haven softly as the typically blonde turned to look at the older woman, "struggled too. At your age."

"With sewing?" Haven asked, voice hardly above a whisper.

"With accepting it." Her hand shifted then, down Haven's arm, until it was over her own hand. Squeezing it, the older woman said simply, "It's hard. To know that… You have the life in you still. I can see it. You always can. Someone who thinks that there's more. Who was born with more, no matter how much, and can't wait to get back to it. You loose it eventually. Makes this all much easier. But somehow, also worse. Much worse."

Haven sat on this statement for a moment before offering softly, "But it doesn't have to be. Over."

The woman didn't rebuke her. Or pull away. Just smiled sorrowfully and it knotted Haven's stomach.

"I, uh, just really suck shit at sewing," Haven tried instead. "And-"

"You rush," the other woman said. "For what? Quota? You're not reaching it anyways. What will they do to you? Only what they do to us all anyways."

There were eyes on them then. And Haven knew exactly who they belonged to. One of the trio. Not the one that had met them at the gate only a few days ago, but another one of them. The rigid looking one. Stringy hair and a raspy voice.

Haven really didn't want to get on her bad side.

After all, she still banked on being one of them soon enough.

Still…

"Do you think," Haven asked then, "that you could help me?"

And it felt humiliating to ask. She'd so rarely done it in her life. In any capacity. Ask favors of someone? Sure. But for help? Fucking help?

What did she look like?

Someone who still had life in them, apparently, according to the woman who did, once more, walk her through the basics.

That night back in the bunk house, something strange happened. It was after their bathing and most everyone was climbing into their bunks, when the front door of the tiny building opened. A young woman stood there, eyes tear-stained, highlighted by the candle light inside.

Again, Haven felt a flashback nearly overtake her, but she was able to weather it as this wasn't the exact same situation, was it? Maybe close, but still, the woman wasn't in hysterics and, instead of someone rushing up to drag her into their protection, they all just watched. Even the trio. As she marched forward to claim the last, unoccupied bunk.

"Who is that?" Haven whispered softly, mostly to herself, as she stood before her bunk bed. She was had just been getting ready to clamber up it when the door opened.

"A reject now," replied the older woman who slept below her softly. Shaking her head, she said, "The Master must be done with her."

Haven's head swiveled quickly then, but not to glance over the woman in question. No. Instead, she looked for Shae, who she found hadn't gotten into bed yet and was instead standing across the room. Their eyes met and they both had that same determination written in their face.

It looked as if a spot were opening up.

Just in time.


	6. A Call to Arms: Part III

Her greatest asset was probably her ability to stay low.

Most of her emotions were held close to the vest and though at times she had difficulty hiding her disdain or distrust, she had the ability to appear mostly disinterested above all else. Disassociated. She was far more comfortable hanging back from a conversation, listening, than she was actively participating in discord. There was a lot more to be found in observation than participation.

Shae found, in the few weeks she'd known her current counterparts, that this was not the case for them. Haven appeared naturally brass and outspoken while Locke, though more reserved than his girlfriend, had a difficulty swallowing his feelings. They were both very emotional people and from what Locke had told her of their guild back home, she imagined most people there were the same.

She just hadn't been raised the same way.

Both of her parents had been rather reserved. Especially her father. He kept to himself, had very few friends, and spent a lot of his time away from his day job just sitting out on their back porch, gazing off in the distance. When she was younger, she'd go and sit beside him, usually with a chapter novel or coloring book, just to spend time with him. But when she got older and he got sick, she'd sit there beside him in the same silence he always had, staring off into the distance, not envisioning the same things as the man exactly, but rather the appropriate ponderings for her age range.

Still, it was something that Shae found she carried with her into adulthood. There was more to be found in a situation when you sat back and considered it as opposed to rushing right in.

While Haven had immediately thrown herself into cracking the inner circle of women, Shae instead focused on just listening. To what the others said. The things they imparted on her. The property was a far more relaxed one than Ewing's (from what Haven had described, at least) and left more room for a learning curve. Still, at the first mention of a secretive group of young women kept up in the penthouse, Shae knew, without a doubt, that they were the key to cracking the place.

And whether she and Haven liked it or not, they were both at risk for being drug into it one way or another.

She thought the blonde would be all about it. She seemed to be, anyways, that first night. Haven seemed to be the type that always had to do something first, be the one to experience the heaviest toll of a task. On the surface level, an inner circle even more inner than the one she was already hoping to break sounded like something she'd be all about, but after a night of little sleep, Haven had almost immediately balked.

It's not like Shae didn't understand.

Because she did.

Of course she did.

While they couldn't absolutely claim to know what would be taking place in the penthouse, there was a rather obvious implication placed upon it and there was no misunderstanding, at least not for Haven nor Shae, about what exactly they would be getting into by going there.

Something had happened though. Back on Ewing manor. While Shae had only heard a bare bones recount, she could tell that whatever had gone on had affected the blonde rather deeply and had a pretty good inkling as to what it pertained.

So when Haven backed out, it was easy enough to Shae to nod along and agree that yes, she would be the one then, to try and get into the penthouse. It felt like an easy decision, every time it fell out of her mouth, but there was more attached to it, of course.

A lot more.

Haven's reservations were some of her own and though perhaps not as founded, she certainly wasn't prepared for what was going to be taking place.

She wasn't sure how any woman, any person, ever could be. It was such a strange concept. Violence, especially...sexual, in her mind had always been more of a random, burst of a moment, not a planned and coordinated action. Keeping women locked away, purposely with the intention of raping them felt like such a taboo concept and though, obviously, she'd heard such things about Bosco before, feared such things, there was something much sicker to actually be faced with the concept.

And convincing herself to actively attempt to infiltrate the process.

There was busy work, every day, down in the shop where she was meant to fold and box garments. It wasn't difficult work, but rather tedious, and she found herself distancing mentally from it. While she took part in the actions, she wasn't completely present for the actions and instead stared off, now just at the dark shadows encasing the barely lit sweatshop in which they worked.

She thought of what it would even be like. To be chosen to go up to the penthouse. Nerve-wrecking, obviously, but beyond that, she wasn't so sure she could easily swallow her desire to fight back. To go so easily. She thought she could, part of her hoped she could, but another part…

And yet another part also recognized the fight the women who came before her must have put up. And how needless it seemed overall.

The intent in being chosen, to begin with, was to somehow influence or gain confidence of some of the guards or, maybe even, the Master. She couldn't imagine resisting would be any gain to that, but at the same time, couldn't exact gauge her own reaction before the situation arose.

So she tried not to think on it, as she stared off, blanking as she almost robotically packed away things and nodded in all the right places, when the women she worked with whispered this or that. But her mind wasn't even necessarily on the penthouse any longer, but rather the woman who'd just been discarded from the place.

She wasn't made to work, that first day. Or the next. The woman who came down from the penthouse. Rather, she just laid in bed, shivering at times and, by the third day, bouncing off the walls, jittery and sweating, while ranting at them about something. A need for something. By the fourth day, she'd crashed back down again and another one of the women stayed behind to look after her, providing her with water and looking over her with sympathy.

"It must be some kind of withdrawal," Haven remarked as they bathed that night to which Shae nodded. Softly, the blonde said, "I wonder what they do up there? All the time?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's not like he stays in the penthouse, with all those women, constantly," Haven pointed out. "Monty. The Master."

"I never see him." Then Shae frowned as she realized she legitimately had never seen the man. At all. The guards did patrols that intersected their natural paths at times, but the man himself had been illusive. "At all."

"Yeah, but he's not in the penthouse," the other woman insisted. "I talk to Locke, remember? He says that there's some sort of, like, game room or something that he hangs out in most of the time."

"Game room?"

"It's an arcade," Haven said. "With, like, game cabinets? We have them in some of the bigger cities, in Fiore, mostly. My younger cousin likes to blow his jewels there."

Making a face, Shae shook her head some as she said, "Great. If one of us gets up there-"

"If _you_ ," Haven reminded with a frown, "get up there. I'm very busy here, after all."

Hardly.

"If _I_ get up there," the woman gave easily, "then that will leave us more time to be alone. With the other women. To coordinate. Don't you think?"

"And get information on other places," Haven reminded. "Locke said that Alwood would be making his way here soon. I know him from Ewing's place. He's...kinda older, but I doubt he's the only old perv that comes around here. If you get in there, you can probably pick up some dirt on some of the other families. Even info on the lesser known ones would be helpful."

It sounded easy enough. The entire thing. Just an action that needed to be taken. And, since she'd given no indication to Haven that she had any reservations over the whole thing, the other woman had begun to take a matter of fact stance on it as well. Had she given an inkling of her reservations, she wasn't quite sure how Haven would react (she'd probably just force herself to go through with it instead and face her own demons over the situation), but didn't feel comfortable enough confiding in the typical blonde.

The days felt long though, in that awkward interim between the woman being ousted from the penthouse and a new woman chosen to take her place. Another would come down, from the mansion, strung out and seemingly as dazed as the one before her, and while the other women seemed caring towards them, they all cautioned the younger ones.

"They'll choose soon," one of the women Shae worked with told her. "Between the ones of you who just got here and maybe, even, the two or three that stayed on to work. And then ones that aren't chosen..."

"What?" Shea questioned, but one of the three top women were walking by then, shushing them, and after a sigh, she was only cautioned with one thing.

"Beware," the woman insisted to her, "Alwood."

And this didn't make sense to Shae, at all, but just as quickly she was being called away, to take care of something else. Haven though, that night, seemed chilled it. And though Astra had seemingly chosen where to send them based completely on the tunnel system, there seemed to be a bigger reason they were there, coincidentally or otherwise.

The day of reckoning seemed to come out of nowhere. The men hadn't been around, to observe them or choose them, like Shae thought would occur and instead, one morning over breakfast, the three main women came to stand over the tables and share some news.

It was solely to the younger women who they spoke, mentioning in particular that they were grateful for the work that the newer ones had provided, but that it was now time for some to take their place in the penthouse.

For as sluggish as things had felt prior to that moment, it all seemed to blur then. Shae's name, as well as two of the other women she and Haven had arrived with, were called and there seemed some confusion on their part. Shae, however, only nodded at Haven, the typical blonde returning it with a grim look, and it was done.

Neither were quite sure how, but it was.

Now it was time to move on to the next phases of the plan.

It was still early in the morning, but one of the older trio took the three women to the main house. They were met at the door by one of the guards, who sneered at them, but spoke kindly to the older woman.

"You ain't gotta cry, sweetheart," the man remarked with a bit of a bemused grin when, as the older woman departed, the same woman who'd done so on their journey weeks ago began to sob once more. "Nothin' can hurt you here."

The manor was mostly dark, save one room on the bottom floor where a soft glow and hum of the arcade cabinets Haven had mentioned could both be observed and heard. The only guard awake seemed to be the one leading them about, taking them up two flights of stairs to the top floor.

The penthouse.

Up until that point, the manor had a very empty and sterile feel to it, but the penthouse was another beast entirely. Though the lights were out, the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon outside, giving enough light to see by. The open area was furnished with plush couches with ornate black designs on the vibrant red fabric. Both sat facing one another, with a thick, rich wooden coffee table sat between, with tidy ashtrays and some magazines sat atop. A nice stereo system lined along one wall and a move lacrima, as well as a screen projector, sat before another. One corner was dedicated to a tiny kitchenette. Straight across from the entrance way were windows that overlooked the front of the property and, at the moment, the sunrise.

It was a far cry from the hellscape Haven seemed to have feared, but Shae made no mistake as the guard, quite clearly, turned to fiddle with the heavy lock on the door.

He was quiet, speaking softly as he led them through the room and to one of the doors. There were four, in each corner of the open room. The one in the left top corner that he led them to turned out to be a bathroom, with a nod towards one of the cabinets, claiming towels and clothing could be found for them there.

"Bathe," he ordered, but softly before, with a sneer, remarking, "And shave."

And Shae glared after him while he left the women to it. The sobbing one, as Haven and Shae had both referred to her in passing up to this point, did obviously have a name and, as she collapsed to the ground in tears, Shae did use it.

"Hey," she whispered softly, behind down to pat the woman on the shoulder. "It's okay, Anna. Seriously. We'll-"

"The fuck it will." The other woman, a strong jawed brunette, paced about with a glare. The lights in the bathroom felt far too bright after living out of the barracks and dim warehouse for weeks and as Shae lifted her eyes, she saw her reflection staring back in a mirror hanging over the expansive bathroom sink.

She looked a mess.

She felt a mess.

But she also felt determined.

Finally, she was there. The penthouse. Things were falling into place.

"They're going to rape us," the other woman who, so far, Shae only knew Taree, shook her head as she came to peek into the cabinets the man had nodded at. "They're going to beat us if we resist. And they're going to torture us. Then, when they're done with us, they're going to shove us back in with those fucking old women. Until Alwood comes around and takes us to the next hellhole."

"Would you knock it-" Shae stopped though, in her snapping at the other woman as, standing upright once more, she found herself questioning something else instead. "Wait, where did you hear about Alwood?'

"One of the stupid old women told me about him," she said with a dismissive shrug. "He comes by at times to take any of the women the stupid Master here doesn't want. She didn't know what happens at his place, but she says it's way fucking worse than here. So what? We either work to death in their fucking factory? Or try and stay good up here and making the stupid fucking master save us from big, bad Alwood? This is shit. This is all fucking shit. I...I have to get this off my arm. They can't keep us here if we get these off our arms."

Taree had started off sounding pissed over the situation but now, seemingly panicked, she turned instead to rush towards the large tub and grab a bar of soap from it. As Shae tried to stop her, she quickly went to the sink and began to scrub, roughly, at her flesh.

"I have to get it off," she insisted. "We have to get it off. I made a mistake. Coming here. He said that it would be okay, that I would be safe, but he was wrong and now I'm stuck here and I'm going to die here and I can't-"

"Taree, calm down," Shae insisted trying to grab the woman, but she was only shoved away. "Seriously. You have to-"

"We have to get out of here." Anna sprang up then, still shaking, while Taree only continued to scrub her flesh raw. "There has to be a way. Some way to-"

"If you would both just calm down," Shae tried, "then I-"

But she was cut off as well. Not by either of the women she was attempting to speak over, but rather another.

The bathroom door opened to reveal a slender, fair skinned woman with glazed over eyes and fluid way of moving. The second the bathroom door was opened, she was coming in, towards them, sighing some as she did so.

It was to Anna that she went first, the frightened woman physically shaking now, but the new person only spoke in a dull, yet reassuring tone.

"It's alright. Take this." And she had some sort of pill, which she then held out to Anna. "It'll be okay. I promise."

"N-No, I-"

"Seriously. All of you." She had a flowery, almost ghostly way of speaking, the woman did and, as she approached Shae and Taree, it was on dread the filled the former's stomach. She had pills for them as well. When they hesitated in taking their own, she only insisted, "It's better, you know? If you do it yourself. A lot of it."

It was with a shaking hand that Taree dropped the soap in order to pick up the pill. While she stared at it, uncertain, Shae only frowned at the woman before them.

"I'm not taking that," she replied simply. "You guys shouldn't either. We don't even know what it is."

"Suit yourself." And, with little concern, the woman took the final pill in her palm and shoved it into her own mouth, swallowing with no aid. To Shae, she said simply, "But trust me, you'll want some soon enough. Something, at least. Now bathe. Like you were told. Shave and...make yourself presentable. Monty won't be up for a few hours, hopefully. And you can relax until them."

"Monty?" Anna asked to which the woman only grinned. It didn't quite reach her eyes though as she turned instead to draw the bath water.

"It'll feel nice," she insisted to them instead. "The warm water. Getting...clean. You take it for granted. We all do. Did. Before now."

She stayed with them, as they bathed, sitting up on the bathroom counter as she seemed to fall in and out of truly paying much mind. The pill (and whatever else she was on) seemed to be taking hold and her words became less pronounced. Anna and Taree seemed to relax too and Shae was alone now, on edge, but it was better that way, maybe. If the others all felt comfortable while she stayed alert.

Part of her task in the penthouse, after all, would involve working them as well.

"Monty's...the Master," the woman offered in her slow drawl. "He's a bit young, but he's still learning. He took over when his father died, only about two years ago. I wasn't here then, but things were very different, from what I've heard. It's not too bad now."

"Not too bad?" Shae snorted as she undressed. "Are you serious?"

But she only shrugged from where she sat. "I've been worse placed. Downstairs is a worse place. Here, with Monty… Accept it for what it is and it's not absolutely awful. Monty talks shit, but he won't hurt you. Not unless you force his hand."

This got an eye roll from Shae and a shiver from Anna, but the woman only sighed again, shaking her head some as she looked to the shiny, tile floor. Glaring down at it, her tone did change a bit, the next time she spoke.

"The guards are different. Most of them." She raised her head then, to glance at all three of them. "Monty's a little boy, practically. Spoiled brat. Do what he wants, he leaves you alone. Or even rewards you. But the guards are different. Good people don't come here. To places like this. Accept jobs like this. Without expecting something in return. And with how Monty changed things, after his father left… It's different now. Because he's weaker. Not as cruel. But he still has to make concessions."

"What do you mean?" Taree was already in the tub, having been gently rubbing at her slave marking, but now she looked over to the other woman. "Concessions?"

"Get in good with him," was all the woman offered with a shrug. "He won't let anything happen to women he really cares about. And stay good with him. For as long as possible. Because… You saw them, didn't you? Just like I saw the women before me. I hear that some of them get to stay, you know? Continue working here? But most of them…. They go somewhere else."

"To Alwood," Shae whispered and though she had a lot on her plate before her now, this name brought her the most hesitance. Maybe it was because she knew, at least somewhat, what her time here no doubt entailed, but before cast aside to Alwood… Everyone seemed to fear him. Without rightly saying why.

"Sometimes others," the woman agreed. "But yeah. Alwood. He looks out for Monty, now that his father is dead. Makes sure things stay in order here. They're all part of the great families. But… It's not bad. Here. Okay? So don't cry or fight or… Just...go with it. All of it. For as long as possible. It can always be worse."

The penthouse awoke slowly. Other women came and went in the bathroom and, when Shae, Anna, and Taree were eventually sent from it, they were only welcomed to the open room, where they were sat down on the couches and mostly left alone.

There honestly weren't that many other women. Only five, from what Shae could tell. And they all seemed to keep to themselves, going through their morning routines. For them all, this seemed to involve smoking something that repulsed Shae, but seemed to help them all keep even temper. They all seemed so quiet though, not unlike the women downstairs, and Shae was struck by the idea that even removed from most constrains, the marking on your arm was enough to change your entire person.

All of this changed though, when Monty awoke.

She hadn't lied, Lize, the woman who'd spoken to them about the man. He was hardly that, maybe even younger than herself, Shae thought, and though he carried himself with something similar to confidence, it was missing the mark by several notches.

His dark hair was messy and he was rather scrawny, honestly, as he walked around in only his boxer shorts, exposing his boney and slender frame. The second they heard him emerge from one of the bedrooms though, all the other women were quick to call out in rather high pitched, fake voice, "Good morning, Monty," to which he responded by letting out a rather exaggerated groan in reply, and the air didn't feel tense at all.

This, however, only made Shae all the more tense.

He'd been heading to the bathroom when, after glancing over towards the couch in passing, he spotted the trio there. Straightening up at this, he came to walk over to them instead, chest puffed out as he reached up to run a hand through his tussled hair.

There was a bit of a laugh in his tone, as he introduced himself. Taree and Anna couldn't hardly meet his eyes, the pill Lize had given them hardly having much affect in the face of their actual terrorizer, but Shae forced herself to stare right at him, eyes still and unwavering. Her gut was clenched and her breathing wasn't all there, but she hoped to present herself as unflinching in the face of evil.

But Monty didn't feel evil. Or at least not the acting force behind it. If even half of what Shae had both heard and imagined about the guy was true, he more than deserved the term. But still, he didn't appear untouchable in that moment, like she imagined a person of his stature would. Of his wealth and status.

There had to be more to him, as there were to most things, but especially, there had to be more to the manor in general.

Monty disappeared after his greeting, into the bathroom, where one of the women followed him, and while both Taree and Anna sighed in momentary relief, Shae only got to her feet.

None of the women had felt too welcoming, honestly. And she understood this. If it really was a ranking system, with the lower stock being rotated and potentially sentenced to a worse hell, then it wasn't beyond her to grasp why they might be weary of outsiders.

Still, Lize had taken something of an interest in them before and, as the woman walked by, Shae was quick to bound up and follow after her.

"So, hey," she asked, trailing behind the other woman as she headed into one of the bedrooms. "Um, Lize? I was wondering if there was something we should be doing."

"Doing?"

"Like… What do you do? All day?"

At the moment, she'd gone to sit on the edge of the bed in the room. There were two of them, twin sized, and lacking most anything else.

"Do?" she questioned as she produced a cigarette from her pocket. As she dug out a lighter as well, she nodded towards the bedroom window and questioned, "Can you pop that open?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." Turning to do so, Shae found that this room faced the back end of the house and, from her vantage point, she could make out The Factory, looming not far away. She imagined Haven still in there, fucking up her sewing and drawing the ire of the three women she was hoping to impress the most. Shoving the window open, she asked, "But I meant more in general. Shouldn't be we-"

"Just hang around." With the cigarette dangling from her lips, the woman almost reminded her of Astra. She was missing the nerves masked in apathy. "You'll know when you're needed."

Which sounded like a welcomed reprieve from the past few days, honestly, toiling away down in The Factory, but she was too antsy, on edge, to revel in it. She thought, also, that she should be focusing in on interacting with the other women, but besides Lize, they all seemed rather intent on ignoring the new women and, well, if she was going to be there for a good while, Shae imagined that it didn't matter much what she did that first day. Anna and Taree, who had no motive for being placed in the penthouse, were still nervously sitting beside one another and as Shae slowly rejoined them, she figured it was the best place for her. And while the waiting felt contentious for the other two, Shae focused her gaze out the window, watching the rising sun and disappearing inside herself.

A guard came eventually, the older, stern guy who'd first 'welcomed' them onto the property. He only stood by the doorway though, speaking to no one and instead glaring at the bathroom door heavily. Eventually, Monty came strolling out, looking far better than he'd gone in. His hair was slicked back now, still being styled by the man some as he ran a comb through it with care, his gaudy red suit rather striking and catching the eye far more.

He let out another groan, at the sight of his guard, but this one wasn't accompanied by anything, really, other than some uncomfortable silence as the women, who'd been busy doing their own tasks before, now all stood stock still, even peering out of the bedroom doorways as if entranced.

"Wick," Monty finally spoke, walking across the room, the woman who'd exited the bathroom with him staying behind, arms folded over her chest. "What's up? I forget something? I thought that there wasn't anything on the docket, this early. I was hoping to entertain our new guests."

The guy in question didn't glance towards the trio to which Monty gestured, instead only eyeing the younger man as he said, "Your esteemed guest arrives soon. There are still things to get in order. Books to be accounted for, paperwork to glance over. With time so short, it's best to start each day with our fullest of efforts."

There seemed to be a bit of a conflict then, in Monty, and Shae imagined he had the power to tell Wick to fuck off. It's what he seemed to want to do, having to bite the words back into his own throat.

"You're right," he seemed to decide in his short distance over to the older man. Slipping his comb into a jacket pocket, he even grinned some, though Wick didn't return it. To the other man's cold gaze, Monty offered, "Besides, work now, come back up later, huh? Really break them in."

He left. They both did. Without another word to any of the women. There was the sound, however, of the large lock sliding into place behind them.

And then the waiting started.

The movie lacrima and the stereo seemed to be off limits, no doubt belonging to 'the Master', but there seemed to be an endless supply of booze in the kitchen, as well as something the women all smoked and shared, leaving Shae more people watching to do than drifting into her own thoughts once more.

Haven told her that she should find the easiest woman to get to know and use it to her advantage. When Shae questioned how, Haven had rolled her eyes and retorted that she should figure it out on her own. With the blonde, she was finding that this usually meant she had no idea. Because, oh, if she had even the slightest of one, she'd love to throw it around with the same self-importance she did everything else.

But she wasn't wrong though.

At least no wholly.

The women were going to be as bit a key component to setting shit off on the property as getting to Monty was.

Taree's freak out from before seemed completely subdued now and, with the immediate threats far away, she'd slumped down on the couch, maybe her own exhaustion, mental and physical, taking over. But Anna didn't seem to be doing well as the time went on, filtering around the room, nervous. One of the women eventually took her aside, to speak softly and reassuringly, but not successfully.

Sympathetic, Shae wanted to do something for her, but she was just out of place. She still was aware of, if not even more so now, what the night entailed. Even more so though, as the time drifted and there seemed to be nothing for her to right do other than, drink or dread, she found her eyes getting heavier and, eventually….though she tried to fight it…

She drifted off.

It was jarring, when she was awakened. Confused and disoriented, she wasn't quite certain as to what was going on, but also wasn't given much of a chance to get her footing. She'd passed out on the couch, ignored by the other women for a few hours. It wasn't them, anyways, that awoke her. The women. No. Rather, the front door was thrown open and it wasn't Monty strolling in. Not alone at least.

Most of the guards had come up it seemed like, some holding beers while they were all speaking loudly, laughing, really, at something one of them said. Shae saw them as she sat up, but it was only through one eye as she was rubbing the sleep from the other still, dazed. She heard Anna from somewhere behind her, in the penthouse, let out something close to a stifled scream, maybe just the beginnings of a loud complaint, but another woman shushed her.

For all Shae had worried over keeping both Anna and Taree safe, however, as the sickening dread bubbled in her stomach, she couldn't even pace a glance their way. Rather, as her eyes fell over the different faces of the guards, she didn't feel unlike Tareee had, in the bathroom that morning, panicked beyond reason.

She thought this was different. Coming back here on her own terms. To Bosco. But once more, her emotions were creeping right back to where they had been during the first time her arm had been marked and she was foolish, to believe that she could do this, that she could go through with it.

She was going to fight back. Resist. Even if it fucked things over for the other women. Even if it meant that she would get expelled from the penthouse, from the property. She was going to run, without looking back, to the river and swim back for Fiore, back for Joya, back for anywhere these men, and she couldn't move, she couldn't think, but she had to, soon, she knew it, she-

Monty was talking, but not to her. Something with a sneering grin that, in the early evening, looked evil and demented. It was to Anna that he spoke and one of the other women was gripping her arm rightly, keeping her from crumpling to the ground, speaking softly through clinched teeth as one of the guards, a young guy, made some sort of remark about, "The Master breaking them in," but oh shit, shit, that would include her, wouldn't it?

Shae knew it would.

It definitely would.

There seemed to be more women though, than guards, and that might work to her favor, if she could just force herself to get up, to hide, to stay out of sight, then-

Someone grabbed her. From behind.

She was sitting up on the couch and someone grabbed her from behind, by the shoulders, trying to force her up. She could tell it wasn't one of the women, the grip far too rough, but she'd turned away from the door, fearful that eye contact might make her easier to choose her from the crowd. This apparently did little. And, as the person seemed insistent, her frozen in place fear was being changed to something else; anger.

And she was angry. At so many people. But in that moment, it was all going to be expended against the man, the guard, who'd touched her. When she jumped up though, turning to glare at him and probably throw a fist, it wasn't just some random guy standing across the couch from her.

Rather, it was Locke.

"Come on," he said, having to yell some as one of the guards had gone over to the stereo system, turning up so loud tunes. Locke, a bit red in the face (and definitely not from the alcohol), took a glance around again, as if fearful of being observed. Clearing his throat, he said in a more commanding tone, "You're coming with me."

There was a beat where Shae and Locke both just stared at one another, his eyes pleading in a way not so dissimilar from her own, but as it passed, she was quick to move around the couch, to the man, who grabbed her hand and drug her to the closest of the bedrooms.

Shutting and locking the door behind them, Locke let out a long breath as he left a hand against the door. The room was dark, save the last bits of sunlight peeking around the blinds, and as Shae stared at the man's back, she tried hard to focus on the fabric of his shirt, on the details, knowing if she could just get something else in her mind, anything else, then she could calm down.

Locke's shoulders slumped as, slowly, he hand fell from the door and he turned to face the woman. Bringing a finger up to his mouth, he requested silence as he moved to closer to her cautiously. Softly, he whispered, "I'm sorry if I fucked this up, but I couldn't let them… Are you okay?"

No. But she nodded, regardless, her anxiety and animosity no longer having a proper outlet and instead welling in large tears in the corner of her eyes. Blinking them back, she turned away from the man for a moment before, with a bit of a wracking sob, her chest heaved and she reached out for him, falling into the man's chest.

There was an awkward edge added in this action (as if the entire thing wasn't so), causing Locke to hesitated for a moment before tightly wrapping his arms around the woman. They'd only known one another for a few months, but he'd come to see her as much the same as Haven, not exactly the type for such displays around others. And, when after a moment she pulled away and turned from him, Locke only off with a deep breath.

"Won't one of them," Shae whispered after a moment, "come in here? Or-"

"No," he assured her then. "I worked something out. With Monty. We're… The past few days, me and him… Well, we're kinda friends now. I guess."

Which felt weird to admit aloud, but it had been one of Haven's directives, to get close to the Master. And, as Locke found out, that wasn't as difficult as he'd originally imagined.

Monty was young. Younger than most of his guards. But further than that, he had a bit of a delayed development. Growing up in the guild, Locke knew some immature guys, but fuck, Monty was one of the worst. He acted like spoiled little shit, whining and grumbling through any attempts at looking over actual business (which, for him, would only include mostly going over documents and observing the warehouse), and instead spending most of his time goofing off in his arcade. He downed sodas through the afternoon and beers through the evening, enjoyed his movie and music lacrimas heavily, and perv on the women provided to him in the penthouse.

Only a few days ago, Locke had finally been promoted to a fixed schedule. Part of it was the front hall during the afternoon. He'd yet to see anything really worth patrolling on the property, literally at all, but having the front hall sure beat the heat outside. Just some pacing around. Nothing too important or difficult (nor sweat inducing).

It was boring though and, much like Haven the first time on Ewing's manor, he found himself kind of disappointed in the lack of action presented. They'd both grown up in guilds where your problems with a sinister entity were addressed in the immediate, within a few nights at the most, never a full week. Just some grueling battles that pushed you to and passed your limits until, eventually, you came out the ultimate victor and saved the world from a little bit of evil once again.

Things were different here. They were relearning how to address a problem. While Locke had always been bright and was adequate at problem solving, it was the added waiting around that killed him most. He thought he'd be back home in a few months to a year, hailed as the S-Class wizard who helped free an entire kingdom; instead, it was looking like he might be caught up in all of this for a lot longer.

He was bemoaning this, maybe, a bit, as he walked around the hall that day. As he'd yet to see an actualized threat, he wasn't really focused in on one. Just pacing. He thought about Haven, mostly. And Shae too. Hoping that they were doing alright with their half of things. He felt even more useless when he thought of them toiling away while he got to do nothing all day.

It made him jump, the sound of Monty yelling from his arcade did and, fearing he'd somehow missed something, Locke was quick to cross the short front hall over to the room, peeking inside with a frown.

"Uh," he called out softly, "Master?"

"It's so," the young man in question was growling as he stood before an arcade cabinet, kicking at the thick machine with a glare, "fucking stupid!

Locke spotted him, further in the room, yelling at the game, but still found himself clearing his throat and taking a step further in.

"Is everything...okay?" he questioned as he came forward. "Master?"

"What?" Turning to look at the other man, Monty only sneered, "Yeah, other than the fact I can't fucking figure this level out. I run out of time before I fucking get eaten by the-"

"Are you on level nine?" Locke could properly read the font now, on the top of the cabinet, and smiled some. "With the undead bride?" At Monty's nod, Locke insisted, "You have to make sure you get the special ray gun from the bridge area on the left side of the map before you cross the mid section. If not, then there's no way you're going to be able to defeat her."

Narrowing his eyes at the other guy, Monty questioned, "You play?"

"I used to," he offered with a sharp nod of his head. "But back home, the cabinet art wasn't nearly this nice. Wow. Even the lettering looks cool!"

"Kingdom differences," Monty said before, taking a step back, he nodded towards the machine. "Did you...wanna try it out? And see if there are any level differences?"

"W-Well, I'm kinda on duty, so-"

"I'm," Monty told him as the slight grin that had begun to tug at his lips started to trend right back down, "Master."

Of course he was.

And that meant that he got whatever he wanted. Locke was certain that that exact sentiment was expressed in that exact way many times from the man and, with a nod, only moved to take his place leaning over the cabinet.

The oddness of the scenario wasn't lost on Locke. While Haven had told him to find out all that he could on the man, he doubted she ever thought that they'd be playing video games together, sharing sodas and laughs as they explored the levels of a rpg and snickered over traded aspects of their lives.

He was always good at making friends, Locke was, and while in that moment he thought that it was a good thing that he'd found amity with the man, later that night, in his room, he felt rather shameful about it. Joking with the guy. Laughing at his stories. Cheering, together, over a videogame. Having a good time.

Locke had an actual good time with the guy.

He felt sick.

Sick enough that Haven noted his change when they met the next day, but he only shrug through her questions and she was going on about how she and Shae were still trying to figure out when they were going to pick the women, and that if he could find out anything about it, she'd need that info soon, probably.

Locke was forced to reason with himself that, obviously, the day before had been a fluke and, had it not, then him being friendly to Monty was just him following along with the plan and nothing more. Clearly. Definitely.

Right?

But around dinner time that evening, when Locke got off, Monty seemed to be waiting on him, griping a bit about having been too busy when the guard was on hall duty that day, but now he was a free. And they could probably have some beers and maybe some food? In the arcade? Only if he wanted. He did have a pool table…

And it was imperative that Locke got as close to the guy as possible, on the surface, so of course he agreed, sweating it a bit because part of him was also worried someone had seen him cavorting around with Haven, but Monty seemed very uninterested with Locke and far more intent with spilling all of his own personal baggage.

Rather freely too.

Monty was...lonely. That's what Locke figured over the course of the next few days. He had all the money he could want, but for some reason seemed trapped on the property with it, where he either had the company of his guards or women he'd captured and branded. Removed from the horror aspect, it had to be a rather lonely existence.

Maybe.

There was a slight edge to a lot of what he spoke about though. An undertone. He spoke of his father, who'd only passed a few years prior, leaving him the house and the business. He spoke of his relatives, both actual and just a part of the larger seedy side of Bosco. He knew the King and had had dinner before, in the palace. Knowing Locke wasn't from the Kingdom, he told him all about it's history and glory.

"Things used to be different," Monty told him at one point as they drank out on the front porch one evening, just the two of them. Some of the other guards hung around and Locke had already seen that his buddy-buddy relationship with the Master was not going unnoticed. "When I was a kid. The business… It used to be a lot more… My father didn't just make his money off stupid clothing shit, you know We were something back then. Important. Then the Kingdom went through an overhaul and now? Now, look at this place. Just a bunch of fucking old women, spending all day sewing." Glaring off, Monty downed the rest of the beer in his can before reiterating, "Things used to be different. A lot different."

The other guards weren't exactly pleased with Locke's getting in close to the boss. Monty was seen more as a nuisance, an idea stemming mainly from Wick it seemed like, and the idea that Locke fit better in with the man than them clearly was problematic. Still, Monty was in charge and if he liked Locke, the mage figured there could be no better job guarantee than this.

When he heard that, finally, new women had been chosen to make their way upstairs, Locke had a horrible, sinking feeling that somehow, Haven had managed to get herself up there. He didn't doubt her desire to destroy things from the inside out, but definitely wanted her nowhere near the penthouse. Some of the guards snickered too, about bringing him into the ranks, and Locke responded with the same unease he typically did, but this was seen as funny to them. Entertaining.

He couldn't quite focus on anything until he managed to pull his schedule off course, just enough, that he was able to cross path with the women as they ate lunch outside The Factory that day. He saw Haven and while that was a relief, Shae not being around was a rather large concern and, fuck, he had to get up to the penthouse that night.

He knew he did.

When Haven first told him about it, he kinda resolved to avoid that portion of things. He kinda just hoped they could unravel the manor in some way that didn't involve him willingly going up to the third floor. But if Shae was up there, then he needed to be there.

It turned into his advantage though, he and Monty becoming friendly over the past few days. While the other guys were hyped up over the new prospects that evening, Locke managed to talk to Monty that afternoon and somewhere around their drinks and games, he was able to impart one thing on the man.

"When we go up there tonight," he started, but Monty only laughed.

"Excited?" he questioned. "You've been with a chick before, haven't you?"

"Y-Yeah, of course." Locke even frowned. "That's not the issue."

"Then-"

"I just… When we go up there, uh, is it, like, you know… Could I be alone?"

"The fuck wants to be alone? Be alone in your own damn room."

"No, I meant...with a girl. The woman. Or women? I just-"

"You got a fucked dick or something?"

"No! I-"

"It's cool." Monty hardly glanced away from the screen he was currently hobbled over. "Just… Don't make a big deal about it. Pick a woman, go off into one of the rooms, and everyone will be so into their own shit, they'll hardly give a fuck about you. Not nearly as much fun that way, though, huh?"

It seemed to work though. After absconding off with Shae into a separate room, no one seemed to come after them and Locke knew they didn't have forever, but as they stood there, he thought he'd give Shae a few moments, to collect herself.

"Friends," was finally what she said to him, questioning in her tone as, from beyond the locked door, they both heard someone crying. A woman, to Locke, but to Shae, she knew the yelling as Anna and only balled a fist tightly. "That's what you are?"

Locke frowned, glaring over his shoulder at the door now, but didn't immediately respond. After drawing in a ragged breath of his own though, he told her simply, "I can't save everyone."

"No." Rubbing at her arm, she sniffled and looked to him once more. "Not yet, anyways."

"Look, I didn't have a lot of time," Locke began then, reaching into his pocket for something, "but I made these for you."

"What is it?" Shae asked with a frown when the man produced three, tiny vials filled with a clear liquid. Glancing up at him with a frown, she questioned, "Some sort of potion?"

"Yeah, exactly." He held them out to the woman. "I crafted them, before I came up here. Just kinda threw them together really."

"What are they for though?" Taking them into her own palm with care, Shae shook her head some. "I'm not a mage, you know. I don't-"

"That's the thing," he insisted. "You don't have to be. These are, like… They'll put the person to sleep. I can't, you know, I can't say that I'll always be here. To protect you. But if you have these and you were able to use it on a guard, then maybe-"

"How does it work?" she asked, studying them closer. "I have to lace his drink? Or-"

"Easier than that," Locke assured her. "You pop that cap and then toss it in the face of the guy. It'll knock him out for a good half hour, if not longer. When he wakes up, hopefully he'll just think it was from the drinking or-"

"Hopefully?"

Grimly, he told her, "I didn't have much time to put these together. No mind altering stuff in there. Just good enough to knock him unconscious. That's all. I'll work on it though. On more of them. More potent ones."

At the sound of one of the guys yelling then, no doubt at one of the women, just outside the door, Locke felt something rise in his chest again and had to be the one to turn away from her then.

"I can't help everyone yet," he told her simply. "Just you. But, just… The sooner you find out whatever it is you need from up here, the better, okay? I'll tell Haven that you're alright. Is there anything else? That she needs to know right now?"

"Nothing. Today, I just… She should find out why she was chosen." Shae shook her head. "Or why I was. Why she had to stay behind and why I went. I don't think that any of the men had to do with that. The women did. Those three women she wants to be in with so badly. She's no good at the job they have her in currently; so why keep her down there?"

The man nodded before saying, "Yeah, she, uh, mentioned that she's not great at sewing."

"She's awful, Locke."

They shared a look, but a sound from outside the door, a low (yet, clearly put on) moan making them both blush and him shuffle his feet. Softly, to the ground, he asked, "You'll be alright here, won't you, Shae?"

"I mean," she started, glancing down at the vials she clutched in her hand, "these will help. Some. The rest of the time seems to be waiting around. And the point is for me to get close to the other women, right? And Monty? Find out what I can up here? We have you with the guards, Haven in The Factory, and me up here. That's all bases covered."

"But," he insisted, "you'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine. This is what I signed up for, isn't it? I told Astra I'd do anything Haven wouldn't. So this is it." Shae made a face though before softly insisting, "We have to figure a way to wreck this place. From the inside out. And that'll take all three pieces. Don't you think?"

They sat, on opposite beds, and listened to what took place beyond the door. Locke was tense, the entire time, clenching and unclenching a fist, while Shae rolled the vials in her and sighed.

Eventually, when things seemed to calm down some out there, he rose to his feet and, speaking softly, questioned, "Will you be alright?"

At her nod, Locke whispered a promise to check in on her the next time he was able before braving the door once more. He was slow about it, diliberate, when he unlocked the knob, hoping for as little noise in the mostly still apartment as possible. Then, creaking the door openly slowly, he took a quick look around, turned back to give Shae a look of confirmation before taking his leave. He took the same steps, it seemed, when leaving the penthouse, as Shae hardly even noted the sound of the door closing into place behind him.

Shifting back on the bed, she curled up on her side, the vials lying beside her, absently running her hand over their smooth glass encasing. She didn't truly drift off, not fully, but the sound of movement outside her closed door did give the woman something of a start. As she held her breath though, she was able to note that the heavy thuds of footsteps were headed not towards the room, but rather away from it.

To the front of the apartment.

And, with less care than Locke, it seemed the other guards were all filing out, varying states of sober as their grumbles reached her ears. It was around that time that she could hear some of the other women as well, after the men were for sure gone, getting up and coming to fall into beds finally as well. The door to the room she was in got shoved open and though Shae instinctively flinched, it was only one of the women and after all this died down, the apartment was truly still again.

Or at least it should have been.

She ended to sleep, truly now, at least for a few hours then, but the apartment was opened one last time. But softly. And the footsteps she heard weren't from large men, but sounded rather muffled and soft.

The woman who'd come in before hadn't closed the bedroom door and, sitting up, Shae found that she could just peer out into the open area. Her breathing felt tight and she gripped a vial in one hand, her nerves still all jacked up, but…

She'd been right.

It wasn't a man.

Or a woman.

Rather, the person she found frittering around the trashed living space was a teenager. A girl. She looked no more than Xavier's age, honestly, and as Shae found herself climbing out of the bed to go investigate further, she had a strange feeling pass over her.

Everything up to this point, the whole time, had been like a strange out of body experience, going through motions and worrying about outcomes n a way that she typically didn't, but as she approached the teen, this at least somewhat felt like herself.

There was no fear at least, not immediate anyways, as she walked out of the bedroom and came to a stop, right there, not noted by the teen, who was bent over in front of the couch, shoving trash into a bag. Clearing her throat, Shae watched as the teen stifled and glanced behind herself.

"I-I'm sorry." The girl was quick to shove right up, pushing back a stray strand of dark hair that had escaped her messy bun. Eyes wide and fearful, she whispered, "I didn't mean to bother you. I just-"

"What are you doing?" Shae questioned. "Here?"

"What do you mean? I'm cleaning. I come every other day," she kept up, "and every night after a...a… You shouldn't speak to me. Are you new?"

But Shae didn't answer her question, instead asking, "You're not one of us...are you?"

"One of you?" The teen seemed confused for a moment before, with a blush, shaking her head and insist, "N-No! I'm not… I'm not even a… I'm not marked." And she raised her arm, to show this. The only light in the whole room was a tiny lamp, but it was enough. "That's why we shouldn't speak."

"Then what are you?" Shae couldn't help it; she had to know. "Why are you here?"

"My father… He's one of the guards. The head guard. And my mother…" Shaking her head, she again insisted, "You shouldn't speak to me. Please, I need to finish my work."

She hesitated, Shae did, but did find herself nodding in agreement though, instead of retreating back to the bedroom, she only slowly went to sink into the opposite couch than the one the teen was cleaning near.

"If it's okay," she asked the girl, "I'd like to sit out here. Please?"

The teen allowed this and Shae felt better, with a good view on both the front door and the room she was nearly certain Monty's cretin ass was hiding in, and when she fell asleep on the couch, it was more comfortable than last time.

But the night was only behind them. There were many more ahead.

The next morning, Monty departed earlier than he had the previous, and without rousing any of the other women. He saw Shae, curled up on the couch, and as she groggily watched him leave, she felt deep hatred flow through her.

Taree and Anna had a far worse morning than she, but she'd been locked away with the new guard and, for the other women, this felt just as dicey, so she played off being spooked pretty well. Anna just sat alone the whole morning and Taree drank and smoke with the other women and maybe it did make her feel better.

Maybe.

For Locke though, the morning meant more than just the cutting remarks of the other guards, who questioned what he'd been up to the night before. Rather, he was meant to see Haven in the shed that day and he could hardly busy himself until the afternoon came around. Monty seemed occupied himself, honestly, with something in the office that Wick hung around for most of the day and, though he didn't know much of what it was all about, he did catch that name again.

Alwood.

It wasn't from the two of them that he caught the name, however. It came from a woman, instead, that he definitely ran smack into in his departure from his room that day.

He'd gone back to it, after his shifts were finished with, to retrieve something to bring to the shed, but that was eating into his time to check in with Haven, so he was rushing a bit. It wasn't like anyone was going to question him on his unexplained excitement; no one seemed to pay much attention to anyone else on the property. Not really. His fellow guards seemed to be a mix of one or two old veterans and then guys not unlike himself, who just hadn't fit in too well where they were and found themselves there then, detached from the situation. While the former might have some care over the property, the latter were certainly all there to do the bare minimum. And on what amounted to little more than a warehouse for middle aged women who needed very little interaction or prodding.

It was a boring job.

And it bred a lot of indifference.

Locke whereabouts, so long as he was stationed during his slotted hours, was little concern to anyone. Anderson, the guy he got paired with frequently, even left the property at times, to journey in to town. There were no restrictions.

Still, Locke had a feeling, were anyone to know of his meetings with one of the slave women, it probably wouldn't go over well.

He couldn't help himself though, that day, as he headed out to get to her. He had a lot to tell her, after all, in reference to Shae, and wasn't paying close enough attention when, right outside of his bedroom, he ran smack into someone else.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he apologized easily as, having knocked the person before him to the ground, he quickly moved to help her up. "I didn't see-"

"It's quite alright," the woman assured him, taking the help with a tight smile. She'd quite clearly been startled by the man and took to dusting off the sharp, gray blazer she wore as he hauled her to her feet. "I'm sure it was really my fa-"

"No, it was all mine." Locke bounced on his feet though, as he glanced her over. As the woman straightened her thick, black rimmed glasses, he questioned, "Are you alright?"

"I think I'll managed," she answered, now composed once more, taking to glancing the man over. "It seems you're the one due an apology now; I don't believe we've met on any of my previous trips here."

"Oh, well, I'm new." And this time, when he reached out, Locke did so with the intention of shaking her hand. "I'm Hux. One of the new security guards."

"That's right." And she gripped his hand, tightly, shaking it stiffly while staring deeply into his red hued eyes with her tawny own. "Monty did mention hiring a new one of those."

Locke couldn't help it. He'd already been hyped up, over meeting Haven, but when the woman took his hand, he felt heat rise to his cheeks and he just...well…

Quickly releasing her hand, he moved to toss a hand behind his head, laughing some as he remarked, "I'm sorry. Again. For keeping you. I actually just got off my shift and-"

"Then surely, I'm the one keeping you." The young woman smiled at him again, but this time, it felt much easier. "I'm sure we'll encounter one another again soon enough."

"Is there something that makes you so certain?" he asked dumbly.

"Monty is your master, but my own, Mr. Alwood, he will be here soon enough," she explained. "As his persona assistant, it is my job to know everything about anyone he might interact with."

"Even lowly guards?"

"Especially," she insisted, "lowly guards."

"Well, as a guard," he reasoned back, "I should probably know about _your_ master. And you too."

"You should," she agreed eyes alight as they aligned with his. At her next words, however, her smile fell some and she remarked, "But the fact you don't tells me an awful lot about your ability to preform your job correctly."

He snorted then, hand falling from behind his head as he insisted, "I'm new, is all."

"Well, here a tip then, new Hux." And she was moving to walk around him then, headed to a different room on the second floor it seemed. "I expect you to be better acclimated, the next time we meet. I'm sure it will be sooner than you think."

"Uh, yeah, sure," he agreed easily enough, glancing after her. Then, with a frown down at his watch, he noted the time and had to hustle, once more.

"Way to be late, idiot."

And it did _not_ go without notice.

"Love you too. Glad to see you're doing okay," Locke retorted softly to his girlfriend's annoyed greeting. As he quickly shut the shed door behind himself, he was moving to present her with something. "I was getting you this."

"I don't want gifts, Locke. I want news. About Shae. And plans. And- Oh, shit, where did you get this?"

He grinned some, the man did, as the woman snatched the can from his palm.

"I snagged it," he bragged. "From Monty."

"Monty," she repeated softly, but it absently as, instead, she was focused then on popping the tab of the can he'd handed her. The can had been shaken though, when he'd collided with that woman, and fizzled all over, but Haven was too mesmerized to gripe at him. Instead, she brought the can closer, licking at her hands and a bit at the can in a childish way as the soda from it spewed. Between this action, she got out, "They make it here? Still?"

"Yep. Discontinued in Fiore, apparently, but not Bosco. Monty seemed surprised that I knew about it, even," he went on, watching now as his girlfriend quickly changed to chugging down the soda. "I told him we used to have it, all the way in Fiore, when I was a kid. And he thought it was funny, because he keeps them around because they remind him of when he was a kid, and I knew they were your favorite, so I took one to-"

"How's Shae?" After downing her drink, Have squashed the can in her palm before tossing it at her boyfriend's head. As he dodged that with a glare, she only insisted, "Have you seen her?"

"Yeah, I have. And she's fine. For now." Bending down to pick the can back up, Locke said, "I gave her some sleeping potions to use if the men get to close to her. I'll look out for her. I thought… I thought for sure they'd chose you, to go up to the penthouse, but-"

"It didn't happen, so don't worry about it," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Why were you hanging out so close to the Master? Huh?"

"W-Well… We're kinda… We play the arcade games together and I think he thinks that we're friends and-"

"That's great, Locke."

It really didn't feel like it the majority of the time.

"So you're in with the Master-"

"I wouldn't say in, really, I just-"

"-and Shae's about to crack the penthouse wide open-"

"Again, I don't think-"

"-and I'm practically endeared my way into the inner circle of the older women-"

"Wait, you've what?" Frowning, he asked, "Did something change?"

"Maybe I've been making friends."

"Have you?"

Sort of.

Well…

The day Shae left, Haven thought she'd be excited at the plan coming together so perfectly, but instead she found herself feeling rather concerned for the other woman and anxious over what awaited her. This played well in garnering the sympathy of the women she worked with it seemed, who all looked on her with something of pity now, as her friend was taken to the dreaded penthouse.

"It's only been a day," she reasoned with the man, "but...I might have found an in with some people. Finally. And they moved me to Shae's old job, so I'm not fucking up with the sewing machine anymore."

"That's...good?"

"I think so," Haven said confidently, but this meant little as the woman almost always was.

"Shae thought you should look into why you weren't chosen," he offered. "As far as I can tell, it had nothing to do with any of us guards. Or Monty. It was those three women that chose. And since you're shit at your job-"

"Was," she defended with a huff. "I was shit at my job."

"You're better now?" he challenged.

"W-Well…. Shut up, Locke. Hux. You idiot. Folding is harder than it looks."

"The point," he insisted, "was that if you're only hurting their quotas, there's no reason for them to keep you on. Especially if they had the easy out to send you upstairs. Why not put you up there?"

"The women come back," Haven told him simply. "Three went up there, yeah, but two came back, right before that."

"So they wouldn't send you up there for because shit at your job because you'll just come back and be even shittier at it?" At her glare, he huffed some before insisting, "I'm just saying, Haven, that you're a liability. And yet Monty's not going to punish you. The guards are uninterested in you. And the women are annoyed with you, but not doing anything to you either. Even sending you away. There must be something that's going to happen to you."

"Fat chance." She tapped over where her guild marking typically lay, hidden beneath her transformation. "I'm Ahesuka."

"You contain a weakened form of the demon Ahesuka, along with your more powerful mother, which is a trump card, fine, but can only be used once, as it would blow your cover and- Don't fucking shove me, Haven."

"Then don't ever fucking say my mother's stronger than me." Then she thought. "Or anyone."

"Haven-"

"You're right," she huffed, turning away from the man. "There's something going on that we don't know about yet. But I really do think I'm making friends. And the more I make-"

"I met someone." Locke coughed, after his words, glancing away from his girlfriend before saying, "I mean… I ran into someone. Literally. A woman. Not one of the….penthouse… In the hall. I ran into a woman in the hall and-"

"Oh, yeah? One of the kitchen women? We don't have an inside eye in there," she conceded. "But I was on kitchen duty last time and I really don't-"

"Alwood's assistant."

"Alwood?" This got her full gaze again. "Is he here? Now?"

"Not yet," he told her. "Btu soon. His assistant arrived today, I guess. I wasn't told about it though, but the guys have been kind of hazing me still, I think, because I'm the new guy, and I think they're also jealous of me and Monty-"

"Did you two speak?" Haven really didn't want to hear about his guard troubles. "When you ran into her?"

"Uh, well, actually, yeah." :Then he coughed, shaking his head some as he insisted, "But only for a minute. Or two. She was nice. But-"

"No one here is nice. Not even me." Slamming a fist into an open palm, Haven made a face as she said, "Alwood seemed really grimy, back at Ewing's place. But his assistant… Do you think you could run into her again? And talk to her some more? I bet-"

"She seemed really, uh, well… We might have shaken hands, yeah. And talked. For a minute. Like I said. But I'm just a guard and-"

"And you're all buddy-buddy with the Master after only a few weeks." Haven looked him over then before saying, "Don't sell yourself short, Locke. That's my job."

"I think," he finally admitted, "that she might have been into me."

"Good. Idiot." Haven was frowning though, especially at her next words. "Use that."

"See, you always say shit like that, but-"

"We're out of time." She reached for him then, taking one of his hands and tugging him closer. As Locke frowned down at him, she only beamed up into his face as she insisted me, "Bring me another one? Of those sodas? Next time?"

"We're taking over Bosco before this is all over, aren't we?" Locke made a face when she shoved him away, going to peek out the shed. "Own a country, you can have as many as you want."

"Locke?" Haven hesitated, before exiting the shed, just to glance back at him.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck her if you have to," she told him simply. "If we can jump from here to Alwood, and take them both down-"

"Go, Haven." He didn't understand it. Why she liked it so much better, to end on sour notes. "Before you get caught."

While Haven and Locke were now in the know about Alwood's immediate arrival, it was still a surprise to Shae, who'd forgotten about the man, the next morning when one of the women brought him up.

"You know," Lize remarked to her that morning as she stood at a bedroom window, smoking, and Shae, not fully awake yet, laid in bed, staring at the wall, "you're actually kind of lucky."

"Lucky?" Shae questioned through a yawn, hardly lifting her head.

"Yep. Lucky. Like I told you the first day, it's not so bad here, is it?" She sighed some, blowing smoke out the window as she insisted, "Monty told me last night that Alwood'll be around today."

"Alwood," Shae whispered.

"Yep. The one that'll take the others. The ones that got sent back." She shook her head then, frowning. "It's hard. I guess. You'll get it, eventually, we all do, but… I didn't dislike them. The two women that got booted outta here. For you. And Taree and Anna. But…"

"They're going with Alwood."

She took a drag then, Lize did, nodding before she was able to agree with a simple, "Yep. Them and any of the ones that didn't get chosen to come up here. That's what they say, anyways."

Then, after a pause, she said, "Last night, when I was thinking about it, I thought, you know, maybe… Maybe it's not so bad there. At Alwood's. But from what I hear… It's just this looming thing. Over your head. The idea of it. Of going there. Of-"

"Maybe we overthrow Monty and the guards and fuck out of here. To avoid it."

Lize paused again, but this time, it was followed by a laugh and a shake of her head as she didn't even glance over at the other woman while sarcastically replying, "Yeah. Let's get on that."

Shae smiled, to the wall, before saying, "I heard it too. You know. The older women, down in The Factory, they told me that's what's where you go. And to beware of him. Alwood. That you get sent up here or you...you… Fuck!"

She sat up with such speed that it gave her vertigo, but as she jumped out of the bed, she realized rather quickly she had nowhere to go. As Lize turned to look at her curiously, Shae only felt a panic creep into her chest at her slight, her misunderstanding, her gaffe.

"You alright?" Frowning, Lize took one last, long draw of the cigarette before smashing it into the ashtray on the wind sill before turning to go over to the woman. Shae was bouncing, on her feet, and rubbing at her arm as she looked around the room. As she came to stand beside the other woman, she only patted gently at her shoulder while questioning, "It just hit you, huh? It does us all. Here. Like I told you," and she somehow had one of those pills on her then, that she'd given Anna and Taree, that first day, "this helps to take on your own."

But she didn't get it, Lize didn't as she looked on with the best sympathy she could muster for the woman. She didn't understand. Shae wasn't afraid of Alwood; she had no reason to be. All the times she'd been warned about him the past few days didn't matter. So she didn't listen well enough. She hadn't understood. She'd gotten into the penthouse, where she was going to help undermine it from the inside out and that was good, that was great, but…

Haven didn't come.

Instead, she stayed behind, in hopes of working on the outside, but that wouldn't happen, would it?

Because Haven was going to be taken by Alwood.


	7. A Call to Arms: IV

It was always strange.

The feeling of it.

Waking up.

Since Haven had been revived following the mishap on the gauntlet, it was always a bit of a jolt, first thing, as her eyes peeked open and she was greeted to a new day. There were some difficulties in adjusting, right at the start, to the feeling. Her chest would get heavy and the breaths she drew in always seemed to burn, just a bit, as the scarring over her stomach itched.

For as bad as the nights were though, the mornings made it worth it.

She'd never really taken a break. Before. Had always been on, constantly. From the day her parents let her start snagging the fliers off the job board, she'd either spent her days completing them or training to be able to do so. Days were meant for toiling and nights were meant for getting fucked up in her father's guildhall. Her mind was focused on very few things and everything felt simple. Easy. Broken down.

Get stronger and reward yourself along the way.

But when she was revived, things were different. She couldn't take jobs right off the bat, she was too weak to train in the first few weeks, and her father no longer held a guildhall for her to act out in, with not too veiled hopes of gathering his attention.

Everything was different.

Locke had to go back out, on jobs, and even once she was up to training, she had no one but her boyfriend's father or Ajax to do it with. Navi was gone, Locke now had friends, real friends that he wanted to spend time with, if he wasn't out, and it was jarring.

All of it.

Her family was there, but she was trying to ease back into those relationships and they were dealing with their own trauma, what with her coming back to life and her father disappearing in the middle of the night.

She'd spend days, both with or without Locke, at a bit of a loss as to how to get back to where she was. Or, honestly, how to be sure she'd never return to it. There was a call for the long stretches of solitude and peaceful atmosphere she was rewarded with, but at the same time, it felt far more like a punishment.

She was a woman of action. Strong action. Constantly falling in and out of dangerous scenarios in order to prove her worth. Those few months of either taking no jobs or taking one and needing a be recovery period was hard on her.

Very hard.

"I never want to be like this again," she told Locke, more than once, and he only snickered, smiling even, in the beginning when he was still just amazed to see her alive and breathing, with him once more. "Don't nothing. Sitting around. _Waiting_."

"It'll be different in Bosco," he assured her and it was still a dream to them then, not fully realized or understood, what it would mean.

What any of it would mean.

She spent months getting stronger and him proving himself to the guild master, just to find their power and prowess useless. He'd spent the majority of their time away on guard duty, back on base or across the border, while her true powers had been suppressed and her new, fancy one she was so pleased to wield had only come into play once.

And for what?

So she could find herself folding clothes in a sweatshop, hoping to win the approval of women that saw her as little more than a kid. A fucking, stupid kid whose current placement in life did more to depress them than, perhaps, their current surroundings. Reminded them of their first time. Times. In new places, adjusting to the new regulation and lack of freedom they were presented.

There was a resignation, back in Ewings, but it wasn't buried nearly as deeply as it was the majority of the women she was currently housed with. The majority of them were too old, had been under too long, and she was made known of this the second she tried to broach the topic with any of them.

It was a headbanging kind of realization, the ones she had every single day and night, as she tried to assimilate herself with these women. She lacked the nerves or fears she had, on Ewing's manor, but they were instead replaced with frustrating jitters of wanting to do something, to start something, but not quite being able.

She didn't connect well with other people. She never had. But it was now a major part of the job and, though she wished that both Locke and Shae were able to carry the heavy load in this, she knew that her position in the hoped revolution was very important.

One of the things that she'd learned recently from the short months she'd spent back home actually came during that down time she hated. And from Marin, her lame younger sister, of all fucking people. Marin possessed the potential for all the power in the world, but balked in her formative years, and instead had to build other skills.

She wasn't great at it either, after all. Connecting to other people. And maybe that was Haven's fault, at least somewhat, but whatever it was, Marin found ways to overcome it. Where Haven thought to prove herself physically and violently, Marin managed her natural awkward disposition in another way.

With her natural abilities repressed, she found herself accessing social skills in other ways. She learned things about people, rather easily. She served them beers and fed them filling food until they felt comfortable enough to express things to her. Whether this was intentional or not, it allowed her to easily transverse any other personal relationships she was forced to have with others. They felt naturally inclined to consider her something. Not exactly a friend and maybe not a confidant, but at least someone that, even when sober and starving, they could count on to be there for them.

The best part of this arrangement was that Marin hardly had to offer anything difficult up to others; she merely had to provide the expected level of care. This wasn't exactly an imparted benefit on Haven through word of mouth, but rather observation. She watched her mostly quiet and reserved sister in the guildhall many times following her resurrection, and it was a very alternate experience from how Marin was once treated around the place.

By doing her work, she found an avenue that otherwise wouldn't be easily presented to her.

Haven wanted to be like that. With her job. To do her job and make friends along the way. It used to be that way, anyways, when she was just a regular mage, running around helping others. She fell in and out of relationships in her time away from Fairy Tail, nothing serious, but her prowess had always spoken when she was unable. Helped her fall in with the people she needed in the moment who required her powers just as heavily.

But now she didn't need them. Didn't have them. Couldn't use them. It felt better, honestly, than it had back at Ewings place, now able to at least use her transformation magic, but it still ached a bit, as it always would, whenever she couldn't draw electricity through her veins at will.

It was depressing.

Just how things had felt, when last year's long, hot summer had faded into the darkness of a new season. But now she was trapped in the dull shadows of a hotbox sweatshop, equally as shut-in and alone, but just for different reasons.

Sulking wasn't productive though. Nor was her natural inclinations towards anger and brash attitudes. Shae and Locke were both out of their element and struggling to find ground, but she was given the easiest job of all; she couldn't fuck it up.

She just had to gain the trust of a bunch of old women.

Marin did it with the older men in the bar, plying them full of beer and liquor and listening to their problems. Finally, for once drawing true inspiration from her sister, Haven found that getting frustrated with her position wasn't going to get her anyways; she just had to do her job and keep her head down.

So she tried it.

Haven had always been kind of afraid of it. Silence. Left to her own devices. To think. After her ventures into the afterlife's eternity, she found mostly that she'd never not be afraid of the concept. Silence was just too much for her to handle.

But without even Shae now, it was what her days were mostly filled with. And as she focused, tried hard to get the folding and sorting all down, box breaking and box opening, but fuck.

Fuck.

It was just hard.

But she seemed to be endearing herself more, this way. Or at least she thought. There was a woman, anyways, of the few that were on folding and packing duty, that seemed to not look on her as harshly as she once had.

She was a...hearty woman, Haven thought. Homely, maybe, was the word. She kept her messy brown hair clipped back and out of her face for the most part, but sometimes a strand would fall from its containment and she was mutter curses just loud enough for the typical blonde to catch. A dark, rough patch laid over the older woman's eye and she cursed about it at times too, wiggling a finger beneath the fabric to deal with an itch.

She went by Bea, the woman did, and she was a glimpse into the world Haven was merely visiting.

It started just like that. Not so harsh looks and, eventually, her grumbling at Haven to take a seat, beside her and two of the other women, during lunch break, down in the grass.

There wasn't much to talk about. They probably didn't really have much in common, removed from their current position, but they were trapped, all of them, with the magical marker denoting them as less than, and if they only had one thing to speak on, then it made sense that they eventually would.

"You wanna ask about it," Bea remarked one day in that gruff she had. They'd had a few conversations by this point, short and to the point. Grumbles over the food, the work, maybe on a too cool summer evening, about the pond water. But this time, as they sat together in the warm grass, sun bearing down on them as they scarfed down their lunch, it seemed different. The tone. The intention. "All the new people do."

Haven knew what she was talking about, of course, but even for as socially inept as she typically was, even she knew that she was heading down the entirely wrong path. Quickly shaking her head, she had to swallowed the hardened sliver of bread and warm meat of some sort that they'd been served before saying, "N-No, I haven't. I-"

"Things were different," Bea told her simply and this, at least, hadn't been the first time she'd heard such at hing. "Around here. Before."

Haven paused, not wishing to ward off the potential for further conversations, but also being reverent of letting this once slip through her grasps.

"Before?" she asked softly.

"Before," the older woman went on, "the current master. The young one. The son." She almost sneered, maybe, shaking her head as she insisted, "He's not nearly the...man his father was."

"Did he...did he take your-"

"Plucked it right out." She made a popping noise with her mouth that made a woman sitting nearby visibly appear revolted. Bea only reached up, almost absently, to sneak a finger beneath the flap, scratching with a sigh. "Punishments were stiffer. The work harder. What we were dealin'… But I was so young then. Your age, maybe younger. Things were just...different."

"That's fucked," Haven remarked, but Bea only shrugged.

"I've seen yours." Then she made that face again, that sneer, the finger slipping back out from beneath the patch so that she could gently tap the pad against the course fabric. "Well, as well as I can see somethin'-"

"What do you mean?"

"Your scars. On your stomach." Bea raised an eyebrow. "Told ya mine."

Which meant she wanted Haven to tell hers. It was probably the entire reason she'd brought up the conversation in the first place.

It was with a bit of a sigh that Haven thought about it. All of it. She had a lot of scars, of course, and wore them well, but the most important…

The fact it was even visible was her own fault, honestly. Her transformation wasn't that draining, but she needed it to be perfectly even, refilled and never taking away too much. Leaving her scars where they were, hidden beneath her clothing, was an easy concession. And the visible ones only added to her credibility. But they all stripped together, each night, and even though the moonlight didn't illuminate much, all light only revealed the most inconvenient. Or at least it always had for Haven.

"I got cut open," she admitted, softly, and though it wasn't the full truth, as she looked away and reflected, she told just enough of it that her pain was not only convincing, but real. "Died. A-Almost, I mean. I almost died. Someone was able to use magic to save me."

"All that miracle," Bea sighed with a click of her tongue and a shake of her head, "only to land you here."

"Only," Haven agreed, "to land me here."

Things only seemed to look up from there. It was difficult, of course, to be too optimistic for the future when you were dealing in such a dank reality, but Haven did feel good about herself. Bea seemed to like her well enough, maybe, and though the other women all seemed to be distant, it was nice to have something of an in.

She felt comfortable in it, at least somewhat, and was very ready to shove it in the often doubting Locke's face one day when she disappeared off into the shed, equally anticipating her boyfriend as she was the soda pop he'd bring.

Which was why, as he slipped in empty handed, she had a bit of a glare.

"Nothing?" she questioned. "I literally have nothing to look forward to and you still manage to disappoint-"

"Haven." He rushed the short distance to stand before her, his goofy gaze rather harsh that day. Clouded. Concerned. Reaching out, he grasped her cheeks in his hands, forcing her to stare up at him, linking their gaze. "Something's happened. Or is happening. I don't-"

"Is it Shae?" She shoved him off, tossing up an arm and, originally intending it to crackle with the heat of electricity, she instead found herself merely flexing. "We'll fuck 'em up, Locke. We'll-"

"No, Have, it's…" He only frowned at her. "It's you."

Deflating some, Haven returned the gaze though hers was accompanied by a raised brow as she questioned, "What do you mean?"

He wasn't quite sure, honestly.

The concern came from Shae herself.

Locke had the benefit (misfortune?) of being one of the guards sent up to the penthouse, not for their irregular defiling of select hostages, but rather to rouse Monty from where he was shirking on his duties. It had been with a bit of a huff that Wick chose him, finding the young man eating with some of the other guards in the dining room, and as he and Locke bounded up the stairs, his only offered explanation was, "You talk sense to him, Hux. I've already fucking told him, he has to be on his toes, now that Alwood is actually here, but he doesn't listen to me. But maybe he will you. He likes you."

But he didn't like Wick.

No one liked Wick.

He was a cold man, older than the other guards and from the old breed, Anderson had sneered to Locke once behind the man's back. He kept to himself and mostly seemed to find his time spent trying to get Monty to do anything other than drink and hide in his arcade or penthouse.

It was a difficult task.

But recently, the Master had taken quite the liking to Hux and, while that was annoying to some of the other guards, Wick saw this as a new, unexplored advantage. Guys listened to their friends, after all, and if the new guard could, at the very least, supply an easy way to control the Master, then, well, his presence was worth it.

Up in the penthouse though, as Wick moved through the living area, unconcerned mostly with the women that hung around, and instead headed to bang on Monty's bedroom door, Locke uneasily glanced around at the women seemed equally as uneasy to see him. He almost raised his hand to wave at their very pointed avoided glanced, but he didn't have a chance as someone came rushing over to him.

Shae had spent the past few days sitting by the door, mostly. She avoided Monty when she could, but felt it very important that she get to Locke, as soon as possible. Being locked away in the penthouse, this felt completely impossible as the man, she knew, would avoid the place like a plague. Still, there really wasn't anything to do, at all, other than slowly go insane in the place and though she knew she was meant to be gaining trusts of the women around her, she found herself far more worried over something else.

She'd gotten up. Right before he came in. To find what had been left for them to eat in the kitchen. There was more, here, than down in the sweatshop, but most of the women, especially those who'd been there long, seemed to survive mostly on their pills and alcohol.

But Locke came in, while she was doing that, and at first, the sight of Wick stalking through the apartment wasn't a welcome one to the woman and she hung back. But as he was barking for Monty, Shae saw the man she was actually looking for and, not knowing exactly when she'd be given another opportunity, she ran right for him.

It was awkward, the next few motions, as she hesitated and Locke tensed, at the feeling of someone approaching him in such a manner, but then there was the awkwardness of all the women staring and one of them had to say something, but it had to be here, because she was the one who had something to say, and while he was too shocked for much more than his silence, Shae knew she need to get the information to him as subtly as possible and, well, given their implied relations by that point, she figured it wasn't too out of the realms what she did next.

Somehow, it was even more awkward.

Locke pulled back, when he realized what she was doing and it was like pressing her lips against nothing, mostly his chin, honestly, as she leaned up, but not enough to account for how hard he was trying to evade.

Pulling away herself, just slightly, she whispered, "Haven's in trouble."

Locke blinked with a questioning, "What?"

"Take this." And her arms had been wrapped around his neck, but one of her balled up fists opened then and a folded slip of paper tickled the back of his neck as it tumbled down beneath the collar of his tucked in shirt and came to rest around his hip line, right where his too tight cut off passage. Shae's eyes were wild as she insisted to the man, "You have to do something."

It was on instinct, almost, the way he nodded at her solemn tone, but again, the seconds in this encounter were stifled by another immediately following it.

Wick had been coming out of the bedroom then, chewing out an inebriated Monty while he was at it, but this stopped suddenly when he saw what was taking place. Shae still had an arm wrapped around Locke's neck and he was still too dazed to do much about it. The sight, for some reason, caused Wick to shout at them, but his gaze was quickly somewhere else.

"Enough," he'd growled, the older man had, and all the women, who hadn't really relaxed the entire time, seemed even more uneased by the action. With a deep growl, he was stalking right back across the room then to grab Shae roughly by the arm and toss her to the side. "You will not-"

"Hey!" Locke bucked right up as Shae, fighting against all instinct she knew, forced herself to only fall away and not bite back at the man.

"Shut your fucking mouth." And Wick turned to Locke once more, raising his hand and striking him, sharply right above his left ear. Having been raised on such things, if anything the feeling made the hardy mage almost nostalgic. If only the hit wasn't so weak with no true iron behind it. As Locke blinked away the feeling, his direct superior only glared darkly into his red eyes. With a shake of his head, Wick insisted, "You will never do that again. Do you understand? You are on duty. And in front of her?"

"In front of who?" Locke griped as he resisted the urge to rub at his ear. "What are you talking about?"

But Wick just huffed then, turning on his heel and walking over to where some of the women were coward, wincing as he came close, but there was only one that he seemed interested in. Locke had seen her before and, though she hadn't stood out to him before, he recognized her as one of the women that worked in the kitchen. Not marked. Hired help. She was the youngest one of them, a teenager, and Locke had mostly steered clear of the kitchen help, not quite sure how they fit into liberation.

He grabbed her though, Wick did, hissing something about how she shouldn't be up here, right now, and she was wide eyed, the teenager was, nodding her head and being drug from the penthouse while everyone else stood stock still and eerily silent.

As the teen and Wick disappeared out the door, a beat would come to pass before Monty, the only one capable of breaking the tension laughed, drunkenly, shaking his head as he continued on then.

"C'mon, Hux," he slurred as he came to weakly slug the man in the shoulder. Grinning, his glassy eyes found Locke's as he remarked, "Gotta finish work, huh?"

"Yeah," Locke agreed with a nod and, though he did glance at Shae, he turned to follow after the Master.

Monty stumbled down the stairs with Locke's help and, with some more assistance, the mage managed to shove the guy into his office where, following, he was certain to close the door behind them.

"Wick's just freaked," Monty explained, going to fall into his chair. "That I don't, uh, seem presentable to my uncle."

"Your uncle?"

"Alwood." He sniffled though, at the man's name, Monty did. Raking a hand across his face, he groaned some as he said, "Man look's out for me."

But he couldn't even think about that sort of thing, in that moment, Locke couldn't. Instead, he only paced a bit, around the small office, while Monty continued to rub at his face trying to wake himself up.

"Can I ask you something?" Locke finally asked and Monty waved his hand a bit.

"Sit down and do it," he grumbled a bit. "Giving me a headache."

Hesitating, Locke glanced at the door before going to sink into one of the plush chairs that set before the desk. Softly, he asked, "Who was that? That girl?"

"I dunno," Monty replied as he rubbed a palm roughly into one eye, the stinking eventually causing him to gasp and drop his hand. Then, dryly, he replied, "You're the one fuckin' her."

"What? No, I meant… The one that Wick drug out of there," he explained. "The young one. Who-"

"That's Wick's fuckin' daughter."

"He's what?"

Monty snorted then, sneering some as he sat back in his chair and focused on the ceiling for a moment. "I's a kid when it all happened. It was under my dad that it all happened. That fucker. Left me all this shit to deal with. And fuck Wick too. Asshole. Thinks he so good. So great. Knocked the woman up. Down in The Factory. Judges me. He does the same fucking thing. Did. Whatever."

Locke shifted, a question on his tongue, but doing so caused the slip of paper down the back of his shirt to scratch against his back and, suddenly, he couldn't give a shit about Wick.

"Hey, man, are you going to be alright?" Jumping up, Locke forgot for a moment that he actually, sort of, had a job to do and straightened at the remembrance. As he looked over Monty, he added, "If I take off?"

Monty ran a hand for once through his hair, causing it to become even more disheveled. Shaking his head, he said, "Gotta, uh, sober up. Before Alwood comes around."

Locke found it unlikely that this would be accomplished, but he had his own problems to worry about. Not only did he imagine Wick would be on his ass, should he run into the man again, but he needed to get that slip of paper and read it over as soon as possible.

His room was empty, thankfully, when he arrived at it. On occasion, the other guys would be lingering around to talk or try and goad him into going into town with him. They all got their checks every two weeks and, now with a sizable accumulation of cicles, the offer seemed like it should have been more enticing to him than he was displaying to the others.

But he didn't want to leave the property. Not with Haven around. If he told her about it, she'd goad him into going out with the other guards, get to know them better, study them, learn something useful to the cause, but fuck that. He wasn't leaving her alone on the property.

It was hard enough knowing she was so close and yet barred off from him the majority of the time.

His chest was pounding, as it had since what had popped off upstairs, but alone now, closed off in his tiny bedroom, his heart felt like it was trying to rip from his chest. Ripping off his shirt, he probably looked a fool as he spun around in a tight circle, trying to find where the slip of paper had fluttered off to, freed now.

It wasn't much. As he found the white slip sticking out against his dark hardwood floor, his fingers trembled some and he was both disappointed and terrified by just how short in length Shae's note was.

She had to be straight to the point, of course, and there wasn't much there for him to glance over, but still, he found himself collapsing onto the edge of his bed as his eyes traced over the short writing.

_Alwood's taking Haven back with him._

_Stop her from going._

_I've heard bad things about him._

_She's not safe._

The note didn't tell him much. And though he tried to get what he could out of the guys he had patrol with the next morning, because of the former, he didn't have much to offer Haven that day, as he stared with heavy concern at what, truly, was a strange woman, but exuded all the warmth (or lack there of) that his girlfriend did.

He'd spent the majority of his life trying to protect her. And others. It was in his nature, since he was a boy. He liked for all the people he cared about to be as safe as possible. This was a difficult task, growing up as a mage, but he always saw after his friends. Haven especially.

His whole point in coming to this place was for that exact reason. He dreamed of more, he wanted more, but deep down, it was the only thing that really mattered.

"Alwood is going to take the women that weren't picked. Including you," he told her simply. "But I'm not going to let him."

Haven stood there for a moment, after his words, losing her tension and fear for Shae and, at least somewhat, gaining some for herself.

"Alwood," she repeated his name softly then, frowning, "knows Ewing."

"What?"

"I told you. That's where I know him from." Turning from the man, she could only blink in the darkness, her desire for static, not to draw, but to expel, pooling in the pit of her stomach. "What if Ewing told him about me? And he came here to get me?"

"Haven, I don't think-"

"He knew me, Locke." She shook her head some. "From the last time. When I was there. The first time. He knew exactly who I was. He's connected and shit and is after me now, I bet, and-"

"If you need me to get you out of here-"

"What?"

Locke looked quite serious when she glanced over her shoulder at him. Softly, he said, "I'll sneak you out. Whatever. That's why I came. If you or Shae run into trouble-"

"I'm not in trouble."

"What do you mean? You think some rich fucking sicko is out to get you."

"Are you kidding? Fuck him. He's after me? Ewing's after me?" She turned quickly then, bouncing on her feet, seemingly amped. "Fuck him. He doesn't know what he's messing with."

"Haven-"

"I'll kill him. I'll kill them all."

"You're not-"

"I'll fucking kill them, Locke." She threw up a fist again, still with no electricity behind him, but as the blow connected to Locke's chest, he had to suck in a breath. Twisting her fist, she pressed harder into him, but didn't stumble forwards, instead only hanging her head, arm taut and rigid as she breathed heavily down at their feet. Bravado deflated, she only whispered, "I'll fucking kill him, Locke."

"You won't have to." He balled his own fist, but it was only to crash it down on the top of her head, sighing some as he took in her new look. When she raised her eyes, they were dark and not her own, but the heaving of her chest alternated perfectly with his own as he tugged her to him. "I fucking will."

Haven rested there for a moment, indulging maybe, if just for a moment. Shoving him off after a beat, she only whispered, "You can't kill shit. Fucking worthless."

"If you had killed Ewing back at his place," Locke retorted with a frown, "then we wouldn't even be having to deal with this shit."

"You're an asshole."

"You're," he replied, "in trouble. You get that, right? This isn't a joke. You can't go back with Alwood. And if he's intent on taking you, then it's probably best if we start figuring a way to get you out-"

"No way."

"Haven-"

"Give me time," she insisted. "We can't fuck this up. Shae upstairs, I'm down here, you're a guard… This is too perfect to not be the plan. How it's meant to be."

"I'm not going to let you-"

"I'm not going with him. I won't."

"Then-"

"I don't fucking know, okay?" Shaking her head, she asked instead, "How do you even know they're taking me? Have you spoken to him? Alwood? Or did your little friend the master-"

"Shae told me." He rubbed at the back of his neck. "She, uh, passed me a note."

"How does she know?"

"Haven, I don't fucking know." It was his turn to be annoyed. "How do you not know? If she does? I thought you told me you were making friends."

"Friend. I'm making a friend."

"Haven-"

"I'll ask her about it." Haven seemed to snap out of her funk, if only for a moment, as she snapped her fingers together. "I'll ask her to tell me everything she can about Alwood and if she knows why he'd even want me, what for and all that, right? She'll tell me. We talked, you know? Seriously talked. About-"

"You're not going," Locke told her simply. "With Alwood. If I have to drag you out of here kicking and screaming-"

"Calm down. Idiot." Haven held her head higher. "I didn't want to go with him either. I'm not going to. Especially not if he's tangled with Ewing. That's not why we came. We came to get access to tunnels or some shit, right? So I'm going to fucking get us that." Then she conceded a bit, " _We're_ going to fucking get those. I'm going to talk to Bea and you're going to actually be fucking useful and we'll figure out how to avoid Alwood all together. When does he leave?"

"I don't know. I-"

"Useless." She shoved him this time, but it was playfully, maybe, and Locke pushed her back, maybe too hard, but he was kind of tired of being smacked that day. Still, when she sighed, he gave one back, only nodding his head when she ordered, "Find out. Okay?"

It felt weird, when she turned her head up to press her lips to his, and Locke laughed some into the kiss, which got him shoved again, but he only shook his head.

"Doesn't feel right," he told her. "Here. With...this you."

She snorted, shoving passed him then, "if you could make yourself taller-"

"I'm going to find out when he's leaving," he insisted. "And if we haven't figured a way to make sure he's not taking you with him-"

"You worry too much, Locke." And she clipped his name the way that he liked. Poised to head right out of the shed, she only reminded, "Do what I told you and everything will be alright."

She was agitated though, Haven was, when they departed. Jumpy. She shivered in the pond that evening even though it was rather sticky out and the feeling typically comforted her. Without Shae there to speak with, the past few days she'd spent her time in the pond staring off into the darkness alone, but now she found herself glancing around at the other women, watching them, perhaps a bit awkwardly, but she couldn't help it.

If Alwood was going to take the other women...then why hadn't anyone told her about it? Tipped her off?

It wasn't as if the day went much better for Shae, however.

If the hierarchy was fractured down in The Factory, than its penthouse counterpart didn't fair much better. The women downstairs were closed off and frequently hard to read, but upstairs, everyone seemed to be a mixture of strung out, hoping for a way to end their current predicament, while also being aware that the only true end to it would only lead to further turmoil.

For as much animosity as they all held for the guards and Monty, perhaps closer to some's chests than others, there seemed to also be a bit of fear over falling out of favor. It was important to be important to at least one of the men that violated them. It meant staying upstairs and not dealing with whatever laid beyond the upstairs.

Nothing good laid beyond the upstairs.

Shae didn't have a lot of interest in Haven, perhaps none at all, but the idea of her facing whatever they were all naturally fearful of…

She couldn't let that happen.

So she'd thrown herself at Locke to make sure that he got the message. That he understood.

Haven, under no circumstance, could be taken by Alwood.

In doing so, however, she'd opened herself up to be easily disliked and distrusted by the others around. She was one of the new three and, already, had been taken a shine to by one of the guards. Enough so that she was willingly throwing herself at him, no invitation.

"It's the smart thing to do," Lize remarked that day as Shae laid in one of the beds, softly breathing as she faced the wall and the other woman sat on the opposite bed, close to the nearby open window, smoking with little abandon. "Getting close to him. That new one. What's his name?" When Shae didn't answer, she only only snorted and said, "Doesn't belong here. Won't stick around long at all. Or he will. It's weird; when you come in, so unprepared and weak, you either buckle or lash out. Neither would be such a good thing for you though, huh?"

Shae had spent the past few hours with snide comments and odd looks, but so far, even including the two women that she'd been brought upstairs with, she found Lize to be the most at ease with her. The woman seemed to have a confidence the others didn't, a resolve.

She knew how bad it had been, elsewhere. Alluded to it. And Shae didn't blame her for these sentiments. The others that had come to base from Ewing's manor told of worse locations than his, even, and while she'd escaped during her original time under before truly experiencing the worst of it, the horror stories were real enough. Experiencing them or not.

And perhaps just as frightening, the idea of something was. If not more so. To think about, to dread, to comprehend and yet not fully realize the reality of what was to come.

"It's intimidating, I guess," Lize sighed some, around her smoke. "When you first get up here. It feels like all the roles have already been assigned, but… Men like shiny things. New things. I guess we do too. But… It's just different. Everything here's so fucking different."

Turning, Shae took in a breath, watching the other women smoke for a moment as she gathered her thoughts before remarking, "Maybe I have a plan."

"Yeah?" Lize seemed to snort. "Do you think we all don't? I had a plan. Second I was in here. This stupid apartment. Get Monty all hot for me. So hot for me that I'll get to stay here. Is that your plan for that guard? Here's to it then. It'll all fuck us both in the ass soon enough."

"Maybe I got a better plan than that," Shae kept up.

"Involving that guard?"

"Involving a lot more than the stupid guard."

Lize sighed then, her eyes finally meeting Shae's as she questioned, "What kinda plan would this be? Exactly?"

"Maybe," Shae said, "the kind that involves layers."

"Layers?"

"Yeah," Shae agreed with a nod. "The kinda that involve coming here on purpose. To make a change."

"You come here on purpose you're a fucking idiot," the other woman assured her. "Sucking off some guard in hopes of not getting a swollen eye isn't a plan and isn't going to change shit." When Shae's gaze remained, again, Lize had to sigh, going to rub out her cigarette on the windowsill ashtray while taking a peak out at the darkness lying beyond. "Maybe I did have a real plan. That first time. Not here. The other places I was. A few plans. I was fourteen, the first time I was snatch up. And I was red hot, constantly, thinking about how to lash out and kill these stupid fucking people. I could feel my magic then, still, just bubbling under the surface and I just thought, if I could find a way around the block, around this damn mark, then… But years passed and now-"

"There's no way around it," Shae spoke again, finally, shifting to sit up. "Unless you know the magic to remove it. Or have a magic that isn't naturally blocked by it."

"Then how the fuck does your plan work?" Lize asked. "Without magic?"

Shaking her head, Shae told her, "I'm not a mage."

"Then fucking what?" Leaving the now collapsed butt in the ashtray, she turned to fully face Shae. "You don't even have any muscle behind what you're talking about doing?"

"You don't have to be a mage to get something accomplished." Shae leveled her gaze. "And maybe I do have one, anyways. That can bypass the mark."

"What do you-"

"I know someone, downstairs, with the other women," Shae divulged with a nod of her head. "She's rallying their support."

"Those old bitches?"

"They hold some power."

"What power? Huh?" Lize seemed done with her then, turning on her heel to walk back out of the room. "None of us have power. Not even the people who are supposed to."

Shae lazed around in bed for the beginning of the evening, waiting for Monty to inevitably find his way back in, steal away one of the other women, and then cause the slow dispersing of the others. He was too drunk for much when he stumbled in that night and most everyone was thankful when he passed out rather early.

Most others seemed to take the same route and the apartment cooled off rather soon. And, as the other women found themselves falling into their own beds, Shae emerged to find something to eat. Anything. Find a drink. An actual drink, like water.

Then the waiting started.

Everything got fucked, because of her outburst with Locke, fine, but it was already screwed up. The timing. Everyone's. All because of Alwood and his assistant's arrival. Including the schedule of the teenage girl that came around to clean up.

So she'd been up. Early in the day. Hoping to be in and out without being much of a bother to any of the women or the Master. But then Locke came in and Shae launched herself at him and that one guard, Shae had only seem him a few times, snatched the teen up and ran her out.

And not before knocking into her either.

Shae wouldn't be quick to forget about that.

It was she was sinking into one of the couches though, hunched over and replaying the day's actions that she heard the door to the apartment begin to rattle, a lock being slipped and unlocked.

Then there she was. The meek teenager that had been drug out of the place only hours before. She took one step into the apartment, shutting the door carefully behind herself, before noting the presence still lingering around. At first, as they always did when she stumbled upon someone, they fell to the ground, a deep breath taken and held. At her realization that it was Shae, however, something seemed different and she instead released the held breath as she approached the older woman.

It wasn't as if they'd spoken much. Truly not at all. Shae discovered her that first night and they'd seen one another, the few since, and that was all. And she'd informed the woman, that first night, that they weren't meant to speak with one another.

So there was still a bit of hesitance, as the young teen approached, a wringing of her hands as she squared up to address Shae.

"I wanted," she whispered softly, "to apologize. About before. My father… He shouldn't have struck you."

Shae had tensed up at first, uncertain about who might come into the door and didn't find herself relaxing at the approach of the teen. Instead, she only shifted some on the couch, eyeing her a bit before asking, " _That_ guard is your father? The mean one?"

"He's not mean." The teen frowned. "He's just...intense."

"The intense," Shae gave in easily enough, "guard is your father?"

"The one who struck you, yes." Nodding down at her feet, the teen sighed some as she remarked, "He thinks that I'm still a little kid and that I don't know...what happens up here and… Sometimes he just treats me like a baby sometimes and-"

"Why does he bring you here, then?"

"W-What?"

"If he doesn't want you to be involved in all of this,"she questioned, "then when does he have you up here? Cleaning and stuff?"

She lifted her eyes then, eyes shining a bit as she frowned, replying simply, "Because I have to."

Shae frowned some as well, asking, "Why?"

"I… I should clean. And we shouldn't speak."

"Because," Shae offered, "you're not marked."

"Right."

"But...you have to be here? Cleaning up after us?"

"Please, just… I have to finish. What my father interrupted before."

Nodding, Shae shifted back on the couch, fixing her eyes on a specific point again and seeming to drift away. Her gaze wasn't as clouded as most that the teen saw, from the penthouse women, but it was close enough that, after a few of those deep, held breaths, she was able to get back to her main tasks at hand, filtering her jitters into her work.

The next morning, Haven wasn't quite able to do the same.

It wasn't unusual for her to find some reason to feel betrayed with others (she constantly seemed to view any action not perfectly in line with her own to be an act of treason), but fuck, she felt like she was just being fed to the damn wolves.

How could everyone seem to know what her fate was without properly warning her?

"Who's Alwood?"

She asked that over lunch that day. It was cloudy out, maybe a little damp, but there wasn't enough moisture for mud. At most their pants got a bit wet as they sat down for their meals of cold meat and stale bread. It was with her new, current friend that she found herself seated beside once more.

Bea choked there, for a moment, at the man's name, frowning some as Haven only stared at her with her cool eyes.

"Who told you about him?" the older woman asked and Haven only shrugged.

"Not you," Haven retorted and she only sighed some in response, taking the words on the chin.

"Why should I have? To worry you? On your final days here?" Bea shook her head. "For what reason? To worry you about something you can't control? No. Fuck it. If you're going there, it'dda been better for you to not worry about the inevitable."

Sour, but still somewhat reflective, Haven stare down at her lunch in silence for a few moments before saying, "But who is he? And why should I be so freaked out about him?"

"I've never been," Bea was quick to reply then, "but the things I've heard… He's not like here. We have a job, we work. Don't fuck around, you're safe. That's all there is to it. But there… You're not...working. Or at least not creating something. To sell."

"I was somewhere else. Before here." And Haven wasn't sure why she said it, swallowing some as she remarked, "I was at the Ewing manor."

"Ewing?"

"It was the first place I went," Haven admitted with a bit of a shrug. "Months ago. I, uh, didn't fit in there though and he shipped me out."

"You have shit luck, kid."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't know?" She whistled then, Bea did, a finger sneaking beneath the patch to itch at her eye socket as she considered the poor fate of the young woman before her. "It was only a few months ago that there was an..." And she paused once more, though this time was to glance around at the other women strewn about. Softer then, she remarked, "They had an uprising there. At the Ewing manor."

Haven blinked and she knew that she should be feigning some surprise, some sadness, disappointment, over not having been lucky enough to experience it herself, but instead a slight smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she questioned, "An uprising?"

"Ewings were out at the time, from what I heard," the older woman offered with a shrug. "Weren't hurt or nothing. But a bunch of the people escaped. Not quite sure how."

"How'd you hear about it?" Haven asked and, again, she got a shrug.

"People talk," Bea remarked simply. "But...I heard it from Wanda."

"Wanda," Haven repeated softly with a nod and glanced over at the woman in question.

Wanda was one of the main three. The leaders, it seemed, of The Factory women. Wanda, Gyu, and another just called T. They sat together, spoke together, and seemed to never rightly even give Haven a second glance, which was a damn shame, because it was really harping on her chance of infiltrating them.

But as she whispered one of their names then, her typically blue eyes falling over to where the three sat, together, talking softly, Haven felt a slight shiver creep up her spine.

"They know a lot," she remarked then to Bea who, seemingly uncomfortable, only gave a slow nod.

"Been here long enough," she replied.

"Think they'll tell me about Alwood?"

"W-What?" Bea frowned then, finger slipping back out from under neath the patch as she held it up instead, shaking it in a way Haven wasn't unaccustomed to, as her own mother had done something quite similar for the majority of her life. "You cannot approach them. If they want you, they would approach you."

"Who cares what they want?" Haven retorted. "If they're the reason I'm going to Alwood-"

"What makes you say that?"

And she gave the other woman a heavy gaze then.

"I'm not stupid," Haven said with a frown. "They're the ones who picked, aren't they? Who got to go upstairs? Who had to stay down here? And the women who stay down here get drug off to this Alwood's place, right?"

"It's not that simple."

"But it is."

"It wasn't a slight to you." She even shook her head then, down at her food, Bea did, before remarking, "It's just how things are."

"And how are things?" Haven retorted. "At Alwood's place? Because from what I hear-"

"Don't," she only insisted, "approach them. Leave them be. And when it's your time to go-"

"Tell me," Haven insisted. "If… If I'm marching into something worse than this, if I have no choice than to go, then I want to know what it's like. What's waiting there. You shouldn't get to decide for me, whether I know or not. How's that fair?"

"Did they mark you? Bring you across the boarder? Buy and sell you?"

"No, but-"

"We all do what we have to do." The time for lunch was coming to a close and, as the three women were getting to their feet, most others were doing the same. Bea, as she shoved up, let out of a bit of a groan that was quickly followed by a short huff. Still, her eyes were on Haven, watching the girl father her own trash before remarking, "I'll tell you though. About Alwood. If you truly want to know."

While Haven was rushing off to gather this information, however, Locke was searching out a person to gather some of his own. With Monty indisposed (or, honestly, hungover), his options were rather limited and the two or three guys he did feel at least somewhat friendly with weren't in much shape to divulge anything about Alwood.

He came around sometimes, checked in on things, took some of the young women, and disappeared for a few months again. Nothing much of interest. None of them were honestly from Bosco; they were like him, from another land with different practices.

"It's a learning experience," Anderson had offered him over breakfast that morning, when Locke mentioned how Wick had exploded at him. "Things are here are so...strange, I guess. But once you get used to them, you can't imagine them any other way."

And he seemed like a nice guy. Anderson did. He smiled with all his teeth and had a jaunty way of walking. He talked sometimes, when they were sharing a meal, about his mother back home and his little sister, and how he was going to get some leave, eventually, to go see them. To check in on them. It'd been nearly half a year since he last had and Locke felt a weak spot in his stomach, when he thought of his parents and Lily, waiting back at home for him.

But thoughts crept in, checking Locke on his own feelings, when he was comparing the other guards to himself. Because Anderson did _seem_ like a good guy and he spoke as if he were, but when Locke was sneaking out of the penthouse that night, was Anderson not one of the ones tangled up with the bruised body of a marked? Captive? Slave woman?

It made his stomach hurt at times, it did Locke's, because this wasn't the way he was raised to think. To consider. You took a job, learned who the bad person was, took them out or reformed them, and never considered the variables. Their lives. Their personal affects and what might push them to their current objective.

There was right or wrong. Black and white. And while he knew that wasn't untrue here, that Anderson and the other guards, that Monty himself, were all absolutely in the wrong, sometimes…

Sometimes…

"Uh, excuse me? Do you think I can speak with you for a minute?"

Locke found himself knocking at an open door during his afternoon break, staring into Monty's usual office. But it wasn't the man he was looking for, no, as he knew he was still sleeping off his bender upstairs, much to the annoyance of the agitated Wick. Rather, for most of the day Alwood had been in there, going over some things with Wick it sounded like, as well as requiring a communication lacrima brought into him at one point.

Now, however, the man had requested to be taken into town by Wick and one of the older guards, hoping to have a drink with them.

Though Locke couldn't imagine willingly having a drink with Wick, it did take the air of seriousness out of the place a bit and, though the outdoor guys were still doing their rounds, there was a sense of ease placed upon those stuck inside that gloomy day.

Locke found himself braving a true source in regards to Alwood; his pretty assistant from before.

And Locke felt confident enough in his relationship (and the fact that, you know, the other woman was fucking one of the slave traders, just about) to admit that the other woman was pretty. There. After toiling with this admission, solely to himself the night before, he was now ready to face her again, a few days later, and hopefully not get as flustered as he had the day he ran into her.

Locke had...a problem when it came to women. He always had. His father told him, when he was younger, that he was just naturally goofy around them because it was his way of drawing their favor. His way, his father claimed, was a quiet one, much more rooted in a mysterious type of allure. But Locke, after spending the majority of his formative years around girls, just wasn't able to cultivate such a persona for himself.

So he was dorky and kind of unwittingly sweet to most women he encountered. It worked for him. Fit his natural style. And he couldn't quite help it, the way his face flushed as the woman in question, in that moment, nodded him into the room.

She was very busy, shifting through a stack of papers, but consented to speaking with him with the only caveat being, "Shut the door behind you."

Doing so, Locke took a careful glance over the woman, clearing his throat some before asking, "What are you doing?"

"Is that what you came to ask?" But before he could answer, she sighed some, reaching up to adjust her glasses though she only continued to stand over the desk, looking over a specific document. "Your master, Monty, has not followed the proper procedure that my own left for him to adhere to, in the past few months, in regard to a few...assets. He's much more interested in wasting his hours with the women he's rewarded himself with instead."

This felt like a rather blunt, while true, assessment of the man that had been danced around by the others that served the young master and Locke found himself taken a bit aback, honestly. But she had a wry look about her then, the woman did, her gaze beckoning him forwards.

"I don't expect you to agree with that assessment, of course," she assured the man with a slight grin. "Surely, it's my master that is in the wrong, no? Giving such difficult tasks to such a young man?"

"I… I'm a guard." Locke even shook his head. "I don't really have much a say in any of that, or an opinion, do I?"

"Maybe not," she agreed with a hum, "but I think you're question should hinder more on whether you should or not."

Locke gazed into her eyes for a moment, taking note of the slight glint in them before saying, "Can I ask you about him? Your master?"

"You're a guard. Of quite a high ranking member of the Bosco families." She nodded some. "It's your job, I think, to at least be a bit inquisitive. I was about you."

"Really?"

"Really." Again, she nodded. "Ask, then. About Master Alwood."

"Right." Locke coughed some, down at his feet, before raising his gaze to match hers. "what is it that you guys trade in?"

"Trade in?"

"That's what the houses do? Right?" He felt quite silly for asking, but knew it was the only way to truly understand. "I'm not from here and-"

"I know."

"You know?"

"I," she assured him, "know."

"Then can you explain it to me?" he asked.

Sighing some, she straightened from her position bent over the desk and instead focused in on him fully. She adjusted her glasses once more before questioning, "Do you know about the top families in Bosco? The rich and powerful?" At the shake of his head, she gave him a sympathetic smile. "They're a bit hard to remember, but surely you know at least about the one that you're in right now, yes?"

"W-Well-"

"You are currently contracted under Harval manor," she told him with a confident nod. "The Harval's have been in control of this portion of the Kingdom since the reign of King Bogler. Legend has it, the original Master Harval fought in the war between all of the continents, under the allegiance of Seven- but traded in his loyalty to their kingdom for this one, slaying Seven's king and royal family in their sleep. He and his men changed the tide for Bosco and in repaying that debt, King Bogler gifted them this land; with soil too hard for much farming and access to the waters too distant."

"Wait," Locke frowned. "Why-"

"They killed their last king," she said simply. "So why would he reward them, knowing what could inevitably happen again? Still, a deal is a deal and he gave them this land to do with what they wished, never thinking they'd do much at all; but the Harval's were hardly. And they knew that there had to be something they could do with this land; so they built tunnels, leading all over the Kingdom, and found ways to deal in a local root to the region. And, when they were cracked down upon, they used their tunnels to export it out of the country as well. Lasted over a century. It was only recently that it was disrupted under the current reign of the Kingdom and the family, hardy as they are, had to find a way to reinvent themselves, as you are seeing the complications of, currently."

But Locke found he didn't care much for Monty's family background. Instead, still keeping the woman's gaze, he asked, "What about Alwood?"

She let out a bit of a soft sigh as she assured the man, "The Alwoods, as one of the most respected and feared families in the Kingdom and beyond, have always found themselves most profitable when they focus on buying and selling the one thing that will never find itself falling out of favor. No matter how kingdoms such as yours right to do so."

"W-What?" He frowned at her. "How do you know where I'm from?"

"Fiore? It was simple enough," she assured him. "I just asked Wick. From there, I was able to further dig into it. Our countries have a rather...sordid history and as a buff of it, I find myself in a bit of the know when it comes to these things. I denoted the hint of a marking, just beneath the sleeve of your shirt. Working my way through guild emblems and then some contacts I have in Fiore, it wasn't hard to discover your true identity. But your purpose for being here, Mr. Redfox, is far more intriguing to me."

He felt sick. He'd felt sick, the entire time he'd been abroad, but Locke couldn't help it then as his hand came up to clutch at the opposite, upper arm, gripping the fabric hiding the majority of his fairy emblem tightly.

"What the fuck?" He couldn't help it. He even glared at her. "Why were you looking into me?"

"Why were you hiding your identity?"

"Like I have to fucking tell you anything."

"You could always just inform your superior guard-"

"I… It's complicated." Locke shook his head, having to think quickly and, for once, Haven's near constant placement at the forefront of his mind. "My father's a top mage. In my guild. Back home. And I...I had to get away from that. I needed to. To find my own way. I knew someone in another guild, one near the coast, who said that he'd done contract work out here and he could set me up. But my father's so well-known that I just thought… If I could just come up with another identity..."

Their gazes were still locked then and he dared her, Locke did, to look away, to rebuke what he'd said, but the woman only seemed to sight after a few beats with a roll of her eyes.

"For all the time I spend studying them," she offered simply, "I'll never quite understand the male ego."

"Then you won't tell him? Wick? About-"

"About what? That some young guy from another country goes by a different name in his one of origin? I imagine most who pass through here do."

"Yeah, but-"

"My job," she told him then, "is to protect Mr. Alwood. At all costs. Your threat level has been assessed and, fortunately for you, Mr. Redfox, it's hardly even measurable."

He frowned then, but it was different and, slowly, losing his tension, Locke questioned, "Then why did you spend so much time looking into me?"

"What do you me?"

"You won't be here much longer," he pointed out. "Will you?"

"Well," she clicked her tongue, "at week's end we are scheduled to head back home for a short spell."

"Then what difference do I make?" he asked.

Finally, he did get her to break, maybe, just a bit. Looking off, she hummed some for a moment before assuring the man, "Purely business."

"Was it?"

"What was it that you wanted from me, again, Hux?" It felt purposeful, when she went back to his assumed name. Looking back down at her papers, she assured him, "I am very busy."

Locke released a held breath before saying, "You were going to tell me about the families."

"Was I?"

"Alwood, at least."

"Why? Already bored of your job here? Making sure old women get their garments sewed properly?" She rolled her eyes down at a document. "You wouldn't have the stomach for Alwood's place."

He just stood there though, watching her for a moment, as if willing her eyes to meet his once more and, when unable to force them into doing so, he had to conceded, "I, uh, guess I found out what I needed to."

This didn't mean that the man wasn't wracked with nerves, however, the rest of that day and bleeding into the next. However, he did have some information to divulge to Haven the next afternoon, when after counting the hours, he was able to get back to the woman.

He arrived earlier than her and was a bit jumpy when she slipped into the shed.

"Something happened," was his only greeting. "That woman I told you about before, Alwood's assistant?"

"Fuck her, did you?"

"Haven-"

"My information takes precedence," she retorted simply and how silly of him was it to pretend otherwise? Locke bit back complaints, however, as she said, "Bea told me about Alwood. And fuck yeah, I'm going there."

Because he had new complaints.

"Haven," he started, but she only shook her head.

"You and Shae are breaking ground here," she reasoned. "And I'm not. At all."

"Pretty big admission." Locke shook his head. "But I'm sure you're just saying that because-"

"This place is chump change."

"Of course."

"Alwood is the epicenter of sex slavery distribution."

"Say that again with a straight face."

It was her turn to glare, that light in her eyes disappearing as she complained, "This is serious, Locke."

"Then be serious, Haven."

"I am."

"You were just crying to me two days ago-"

"I didn't cry." Then she thought to revise. "I don't cry."

"-about how terrified you are," he kept up, "that Alwood and Ewing might be conspiring to capture you and now you're all gung-ho about going?"

"No," she retorted with a clicking of her tongue. "I'm making the best of a shit situation."

"The fuck you are." He stepped up to her, closer to her in the already tight space, and glared down into her eyes. "You're fucking a failing at getting shit done here and think that you're going to just knock it out of the park, huh? In an ever tougher to crack place? You're fucking delusional. You always have been. And we all just let you get away with-"

"Are you even going to listen to me? Or be mad for no reason?"

"I'm not mad. At you. I'm mad at myself for letting you even come here in the first-"

"Alwood's not after me because Ewing sicced him on me."

"How do you know?"

"Well, I mean, I can never be a hundred percent certain."

"Haven-"

"But," she insisted then as she crossed her arms over her chest stiffly, "I do understand now, a bit more, how the girls are divvied up."

Locke didn't find he quite cared but, thoroughly exasperated, he had no choice than to listen to his girlfriend's explanation.

"Alwood and Monty's father go way back," Haven offered with a shrug of her shoulders. "Or they did, I guess. Monty's father was the youngest of four boys in the family and not meant to inherit the manor, so his parents sent him away when he was still just a kid, along with the other two non-eldest boys, as well as a sister, to live with some of the other top families in the Kingdom. The family was in financial straits and they were meant to endear themselves the places they were sent, in order to gain favor that their family was falling out of.

"But when Monty's father was still a boy, they had that last Great War, and the oldest brother was drafted and died. Which meant the estate should have gone to the next in line, but Alwood, who was coming into his own estate at the time, had an idea; he could make a financial deal with Monty's grandfather to insure that the boy he'd grew up with came into power at the same time as him and, together, they could maintain these two portions of Bosco together and possibly even overtake some of the lesser families. They ended up extending their reach beyond their original land holds and keeping Monty's family from falling under after they had to change trades."

"That's great, Haven," Locke finally cut in with a frown. "But what the fuck does that have to do with-"

"It wasn't that long ago, Locke, that they absorbed the lesser families, stealing the land away from their original holders." Haven shrugged some. "Bea told me that, when she was growing up, she worked for one of the families during the separations. And it didn't go over well. The lesser families are very deeply entrenched to the higher ones and there's still resentment, to this day, towards their current higher houses."

"What," he finally griped, "are you saying?"

"That it can work," she told him with a bit of a glee, maybe, in her voice. "What Astra originally wanted. She wanted to sow distrusts for the system, right? In the current citizens? But then we told her that it had to be through the silent that this happened, and it does, I know it does, but…if we could get some of the lesser families to turn on the higher-"

"You're," he told her bluntly, "not going to be able to do that, Haven, as a fucking sex slave."

"Who says I'm going to be one?"

"Probably Alwood, when he fucking drags you out of here."

"He's dragging," she reminded simply, "this me out of here. Right? This dark haired woman. But if I transform into someone else, sneak back across the boarder, have Astra remove my mark, come back over the way that you did, get a job at Alwood's place-"

"How many leaps did you have to make for this to even logically fit together in your mind?"

"I'm trying," she griped to him, "to make the best of a bad situation, okay? Because he's going to take me and...and..."

"What did that Bea woman tell you about Alwood's place?" Locke questioned then. "Haven?"

She was the one to take a step back from him for once, sighing some before remarking, "It's nothing good. Not like here or Ewing's place. It literally is just a holding pen, for women and some men, until one of the higher ranks picks you. It's supposed to be a place for better adjusted and prepared silent, more valuable."

"Then why were you chosen?" he questioned. "What about you makes them think that's a good fit?"

"Maybe," she retorted, "I look seasoned."

"I thought you said you were taking this seriously?"

"I am." Stifling a bit, she took another step away from him, turning now as she said, "Honestly, I think that it all has to do with those three women. The ones that I told you were the head of all the other women in The Factory. Bea told me that Alwood takes experienced women, but I don't really believe that. I think he might, from other areas, but here, he just takes Monty's leftovers as a favor. Think about it; we're not needed, are we? Me and Shae and the other women that were brought on? Not in The Factory. It operates fine without us. Monty buys young women for him and the guards then, when they're done with them, instead of wasting his time trying to sell them, he just has his father's old friend pick them up and sell them. He bought us in bulk and can't be bothered with properly filtering what comes in and out, but knows Alwood will just take care of it for him."

He'd considered her words carefully and, after a moment of thought, he said, "I'm still not letting him take you."

"Locke-"

"You knew full fucking well, Haven, that there is no way that I would agree to you allowing yourself to be taken to an other location, potentially sold even further away from us, all in hopes that you somehow manage to escape, make it back to Astra, get her to agree to your plan of then getting into Alwood's manor as a worker, to then overthrow it from the inside, something you weren't able to do here, at Harval manor, which she currently needs for its vast tunnel system."

She frowned. "Well, when you say it like that, it sounds fucking stupid."

"It sounded fucking stupid when you said it!"

"Don't yell at me, Locke, alright? These past few days-"

"Oh, you think they've been great for me? That any of this has been great for me?"

"Playing guard? And in an arcade? While getting drunk with your friend the rapist piece of shit? Can't be that hard."

He tensed then, sour, and when he recovered a step towards her, Haven returned it in kind.

"You fucking know what, Haven?" he growled and she was closer to him now, in height, which was fucked, because it was all fucked, it always had bee.

"What?" she retorted with just as much venom and Locke faltered first, this time, how it should be, as instead of glaring down some more or putting her in his place, his head fell to his own and rested against hers.

Taking in a deep breath, Locke whispered, "I don't think I can keep doing this."

Haven lost some of her annoyance, but it was only to find some more. This kind, however, was a softer annoyance and, as she shifted away from him, it was to let his head fall to her shoulder instead. As he let a ragged breath out onto her shoulder, the woman only tentatively reached an arm up and out to wrap around his shoulders.

"You're stronger than this," she told him softly and he agreed, maybe, but still only shook his head a bit.

"I can't," he told her simply, "look out for you here. Or Shae. And it's fucking with my head because-"

"We don't need you to."

"It's why I'm here."

"You're here," she told him softly, "because really fucked up people have spent centuries enslaving other people. You're here because innocent people are being abused and since we were kids, you've always sworn to take up for the lowest among us. You're doing this because it's the fucking right thing to do, Locke, not because it's the easiest."

He'd closed his eyes there, for a moment, but blinked them open suddenly as he recalled to the woman, "She knows my name."

"Who does?"

"Alwood's assistant."

"So?"

"No, Have." And he lifted his head. "My real name. She called me Redfox."

"What?"

Nodding, he said, "She fucking tracked me or something. Saw a bit of my guild marking and-"

"Are we boned?" Haven questioned. "Fuck, Locke, why didn't you tell me this to begin with?"

And he took a moment, another one, because holy shit did he need it before, with a shake of his head remarking, "Have no idea. Stupid me." Still, with a sigh, he admitted, "But I don't think we are. She seemed to just be kind of...negging me, I think."

"Whating you?"

"Like...purposely bothering me, to try and get under my skin."

"Flirting with you," Haven decided and he only shrugged some. Groaning loudly, she turned from him and slammed a fist into another. "Damn it. You're fucking compromised."

"And you're," he added, "getting shipped out at the end of the week. She told me Alwood and her are heading out then. I imagine that's when he takes the women with him."

"Then we really are boned."

They shared a look, not a glare, and with it both seemed to collapse at the same moment, sinking to their lowest together, Haven falling with her back against a wall and Locke only sitting beside her, chewing at his lips.

"What was our original goal?" she asked suddenly, but it only got a shrug out of the man. This made her reach over and shove at him before saying, "What was our goal?"

"To get access to the tunnels, damn," he complained with a frown her way. "What's your point?"

"How do we do that?"

"Haven-"

"We have to get Monty and the guards out," she told him simply, "and escape with as many of the silent that will come with us. And if we somehow managed to take the manor-"

"There's no way we could hold it."

"Fine," she conceded. "We don't hold the manor and we flee into the tunnels. That's the plan, right? And there is no walking this one back. Bea knew about the Ewing uprising. That means that the information is getting out at least somewhat; people are escaping. And that can't be ignored."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that we're not boned yet," she insisted. "If we can get them off the manor, all of them, before the week's end, and get all of the women to come with us, into the tunnel system-"

"How, Haven? Huh? How do we pull this off before-"

"I don't fucking know, Locke," she retorted with a glare. "But I know that I don't give up. That I never give when it's worth so fucking much."

"Yeah, and that got you killed before."

"Greed," she replied, "got me killed before. Selfishness got me killed before. This isn't either of those. If I want this, it's because I want better for other people. To protect the people that I came here to free. I'm not running, not yet; and I know that you're not either."

He took in a breath, a long one, and let it out just as slow. Haven, in return, only watched this with a soft gaze and, when he nodded along with her command, she only reached out to tap his cheek.

"I can see why she spent all that time tracking down your secret identity," she offered as he only stared. "You look so cute now, with your little haircut and everything-"

"Don't mock me," he warned, but she only shook her head.

"Everyone likes you, Locke," she assured him. "They always have. You're special that way."

Her hand fell from his cheek and Locke reached out with his own, just barely gracing his thumb over her cheek when they felt it. Heard it. From outside the shed. The sound of swift movement and neither had much time to react before the door to the shed was being slammed open.

"Well," came the thick voice of one of the guards, "what do we have here, huh?"

Locke shoved up, nearly tripping over his own feet as he momentarily felt like a caught teen again, having to blush and explain how, exactly, a situation wasn't so bad to his parents. Haven, however, stayed where she was momentarily, far more fearful than the man. While the optics might cause him, as a guard, some discomfort, the situation could quickly turn rather sticky for her, especially if she was intent with not revealing her hidden abilities. Balling her fists, she grit her teeth and focused on a specific point in the shed, refusing to allow her eyes to graze any of the other men's.

"It's not," Locke insisted as his mind caught up to him, "what you think. I was just-"

"Pretty obvious what you were doin', man," came a sorta snicker from one of the other guys. There were three of them, crowded around the doorway to the shed and Haven pegged each of them, from what Locke had told her about his coworkers.

She was staring at Anderson, a young wiry guy who'd just made that wisecrack with a bit of nervous laughter and, behind him, it looked like the other guy Locke's age, Halbert, hung back with equal unease. But it was one of the older guys, but not the cold, reserved Wick. No. Instead it was a dark headed man with a gnarly scar that crossed from his right cheekbone down to his jawline.

Crigin was like Wick, or so Locke thought. Had been around forever and seemed more incline to the old ways of how things were run. However, unlike Wick, he'd taken part that night with the other guards in the penthouse debauchery. He didn't seem to like most of the young guards nor the young master, but most of all, he absolutely hated Locke.

Mainly, from what the guy could tell, because he was the newest meat, but his budding relationship with the boss was doing little to help things.

"Wanda know you're out here, little girl?" Crigin questioned, but Haven refused to answer him. She couldn't. Because if she opened her mouth, she'd surely do herself in. How could she not? It was an intense battle just not to add an affliction of her own to his scarred flesh. His eyes traced Haven and she felt filthy, just about exactly how she'd felt with Ewing. Her silence though only seemed to anger the man and he growled, "Answer me."

He seemed to realize his own importance then, Locke did. He protected his girlfriend from fantastical monsters and evildoers out to steal her life; she took care of protecting her own honor. She always had. But with her behind him, at his feet now, Locke felt a strange sensation well up inside of him and he imagined that Haven would hate it if she knew. The way that it went beyond just mages then, partners, having one another's backs.

As he watched Crigin openly ogle his girlfriend, Locke could have killed him, right on the spot. Not for any prior, obvious, miss deeds, but purely for the one of causing such discomfort and implying such awful thoughts towards someone Locke loved.

"Leave her alone." Still, Locke was well aware of the situation brewing before them and only hoped to defuse it. Taking a step towards the other guards, he insisted, "We were just-"

"You think that you can just get away with anything you want, huh?" Crigin snorted so deeply that it sounded like it hurt. "Because you hang around that little shitstain Monty?"

"C-C'mon, Crigin." Anderson took a step back, nearly running into Halbert. "We should really just leave them-"

"It's a goddamn rule," Crigin kept up, "that you don't fuck around with The Factory women."

"Who the fuck would want to?" Anderson continued to try, hoping a mood lightning joke would break the palpable feeling that hung around. Then he glanced at Haven and offered, "I mean, usually."

"You don't get to come around here, boy," Crigin told Locke then, "and fuck with the order of things. This bitch belongs to The Factory and, soon enough, Master Alwood. You wanna get tangled in all that? Huh? Can't keep your dick in your pants long enough to even learn the rules around here, huh?"

But then, as everyone only seemed to hold their breaths and anticipate the worst, something new seemed to cross the older man's mind for the first time and he took a further step into the shed, the glinting in his eye somehow different now.

"You were gonna fuck her? Boy?" He nodded down at Haven, Crigin did, a dark smirk playing at his dry lips as he added, "Then do it."

For all the bravado and joking up in the penthouse that three men before Locke had done only a few days prior, each seemed to lack any such joy in that moment. Even Crigin, for as into the suffering he was evoking as the man was, even he wasn't deriving true joy from the moment. Rather, he was quite blatantly reveling in the chaos.

Locke bowed his head then, breathing ragged as he checked himself, as he had to, in that moment, keep it together, but the moment seemed too long for Crigin and, while the other two still hung back, he moved to take another step.

"Fuck it," the older man remarked as he seemed done toying with Locke and instead focused his gaze in on Haven once more. "I'll do it."

And his arm shot out, Locke's did, but it was reinforced now as metal plating coated it and he caught caught Crigin in the gut. He hadn't punched him, but rather stopped him short, blocking his easy passage to the woman. Locke couldn't look at her now, he didn't want to. Seeing Haven hamstrung, defenseless, even if it was by her own volition, wouldn't do much for his psyche at the moment.

"You think you're the only one," Crigin whispered harshly as, after sucking in a breath, he took a step back and tensed a fist himself, the soft glow of a magic circle appearing beneath his open palm, "that knows a bit of magic, boy?"

"I'm not," Locke told him simply, "your boy."

Haven was ready, at any moment, to spring to life herself. The fact she wasn't at the moment made her sick to her stomach as, rather than fear of the moment, she was instead entrenched in this resentment over their placements. Their actions. Locke guarding over her wasn't wholly out of place, but it came from a place of weakness for her now and she so rarely felt the latent sexism involved in her avenue of employment. Sure, maybe some viewed her actions on the occasion as unladylike or unbecoming, but overall, her personality no better fit a man than it did a woman. As far as general acceptance and appearances went.

But it existed, here, in Bosco, in ways that it was absent in Fiore. Especially in the silent.

If the roles were reversed and it was Locke lying there, on the floor, she'd...she'd…

"You're going to fight," Anderson questioned then, voice deeper it seemed and tone heavier, "over a fucking marked? Honestly?" Then, when this didn't seem to get the men to back away from one another, he added, "What if Wick sees?"

Locke honestly didn't give a fuck in that moment, but Crigin had enough cognitive functions to realize it wouldn't exactly go his way, whether he accurately pinned the majority of the problems off on the new guy or not.

As he dropped his arm though, Crigin only sneered some, deciding not to give in exactly, but change his approach.

"Someone should fucking hear about this," he decided and his next few words did bring Haven's gaze, finally, onto the man. "Wanda. Gyu. That fuckin' other one. Bet they'll have a lotta things to say to you, little girl."

She was getting to her feet then, Haven was, but Locke grabbed her arm the second she stood, holding her in place while Halbert took off with Crigin and Anderson just shook his head at Locke.

"You should go, Hux," Anderson suggested softly, glancing between the man and woman. "Crigin's a fucking creep, but… He's right. We're not supposed to mess with the women in The Factory. You know that. You were told that. Even if it doesn't feel the same because… You should go speak to Wick, before Crigin gets back to him. Or worse; one of the three women."

He didn't want to, Locke didn't, and even though they didn't speak, it was rather obvious to Haven. Leaving her alone in that moment didn't feel like an option, but she knew it was the only one, really. The situation would only be escalated further by them sticking together and, as Anderson's attention was taken by the commotion of Crigin's impending return with one of the women, Haven shook her arm free of her boyfriend's grip and instead shoved gently at his arm.

Looking down at her, Locke was quick to give her a shake of the head, some resistance, but her eyes, whether their typically captivating hue or not, were enough to get him to follow orders. He knew he was too amped, a liability, and though he wanted to be certain of her safety, the immediate, indefensible actions seemed to have washed over them and she could take care of herself.

If the worst of it came.

He didn't imagine, now slightly removed from the tension, that it would.

Anderson let the man leave, though he kept Haven boxed in the shed, and it took a lot out of Locke, as he heard Crigin behind him, to continue on, eyes straight ahead, while he crossed the lawn.

"-fucking wonderin' where he's been gettin' off to," he heard Crigin explain to one of the three women Haven had mentioned, the leaders in The Factory, as he led herstraight to the shed, "and when Halbert here told me about how he saw the two of them enterin' this shed, well, I thought it'd only be right, informin' you and all."

Locke kept on, because he had to, because something had only just occurred to him and though he knew that getting out in front of what was ahead, in regards to Wick, might play better, there was someone else that he thought could most benefit him in that moment.

Monty was in the arcade, because of course he was, and the guard on duty only rolled his eyes a bit, when Locke requested entry. Being granted it, Locke had to take a moment to place the other guy. He was at one of the arcade cabinets, but rather being hunched over it, he was off to the side of the glowing machine, back pressed against its cool surface, as he smoked.

"Uh, hey, man, can I-"

"Ask me something?"

"Yeah, actually."

He came to stand at the guy's side, but when Monty made no move to get up, Locke only sighed some as he sank down to his level.

"Get on Wick's bad side?" Monty questioned, but Locke only shook his head before relenting some.

"Not yet," he offered and the other guy snorted, but it was with a grin.

"He's been a guard," Monty told Locke, "since before I was a born. My mother, she didn't like him much, but my father did. Or at least thought that he was a tough guy to have around. Rose through the ranks and all that. But my mother… We used to have a signal, you know? Between the two of us? When he was going to be coming down a hallway or whatever shit." And he mimed some sort of gesture with his fingers, snickering some as with his other hand he brought his cigarette back up to his lips. Before taking a puff, he remarked, "What'd you do? Hux?"

"Nothing bad. I don't think. I just… There's this girl. A woman." He looked off. "In the… In The Factory. And-"

"Yeah." He shook his head. "Wick's not gonna be happy."

"I don't care about that," he assured the other man. "I just… She's going to go away, right? With Alwood? At the end of the week?"

"Guess so, yeah."

"I can't… I know it's only been a few weeks, but I really-"

"Fall for everyone you fuck? Fucking lecher."

"It's not like that."

"I can't fucking section all the women off for you, you know," Monty griped with a roll of his eye. "They breed you guys different, I guess. Back where you're from."

""It's just about respecting them," he insisted with a blush. "The women."

"Buy her back," Monty suggested. "Save up and I can get you a good deal, with my uncle, and-"

"Respect, man."

"They lie." He said this in a rather firm way, Monty did, as he looked Locke in the eyes for the first time. "You know? I thought I was in love too, the first time I-"

"It's not," Locke continued to insist, "like that."

"You sure?"

"I have, uh, someone, you know? Back home?" He returned the man's gaze, hoping for as much honesty to be reflected in his eyes as he could manage to fake. "I just need someone while I'm here."

"Two someones," Monty remarked and Locke sighed in response.

"Please?" he asked then. "I… I won't ever ask you for anything else."

"Think you're the first one to use that line?" Monty took another puff before getting to his feet. "But I do owe you, I guess. You helped me figure that level out, huh? You wanna keep this woman around? Fine. I'm fucking master. They do what _I_ want here. Fuck Wick."

"Yeah," Locke agreed even though, at that moment, he couldn't even be sure what the man himself knew of the situation, much less thought. "Fuck Wick."

But unfortunately for Locke, his direct superior wasn't exactly the person most affected by the situation.

Monty was right in that he could do what he wanted, but when he approached Alwood that evening with a withdrawal in the amount of women he was offering up, the much older man only cautioned in a way his father might have what it would mean, to back out of an arrangement, so far into it.

"As your dear uncle," Alwood assured him that evening in the study as his assistant fluttered about and Monty tried hard to seem as sober as possible, "of course, I would forgive you for such a thing, but to make it a habit-"

"Master," his assistant butted in with a glance over. "Might I suggest something?" At her own's nod, she smiled warmly in Monty's direction as she said, "You have many toys, young master. If you wish to keep more than your fair share, perhaps it only right that you see to trade in another one. It would only be proper."

Alwood hummed some, from where he sat behind Monty's desk, as if he belonged. "Only proper."

So maybe the women weren't quite on their game, the past few days, as the round of women meant to be shipped out were already set. Alwood was there and, barring any major screw up, no one quite expected what would come out of Monty's mouth that evening, when he finally arrived back into the penthouse.

They all called out to him, even Shae, as they were meant to, in those overly perky and interested voices that were a strain, at times, between all that was shoved down into their systems. And while he wasn't particularly looking forward to giving anything of his up, he also had only just formed a bond with Hux, an actual one, he felt, and friendships were a give and take.

"Lize," he remarked as his eyes fell over where she was, seated on a couch beside Shae. At the sound of his voice, she'd sat to attention, holding down any bile at the thoughts of the impending night that would be coming her way, between her and the man, but it wasn't with lusty eyes that he stared out at her. Rather the bored and disinterested that she'd hoped for so long to avoid. "Head down to The Factory."


	8. A Call to Arms: Part V

"Where you? Before you were here?"

Haven stared rather blankly at the three women before her, considering more carefully her reply than she typically would have. There was the honest answer, the less honest answer, and then the one that she chose that wasn't too far off from reality.

"Ewing manor," Haven admitted softly. "I wasn't there for long and got removed. Sold to some traders. Ended up here."

"Here." The woman seated across from her nodded. "You ended up here."

Here, in that moment, meant back at the bunk house. After much toiling, Haven had finally earned her coveted position at the table with the three head women of The Factory. It wasn't the ideal placement in which she'd envisioned herself. No. She wasn't be welcomed into the group; she was being scolded.

It felt kind of silly. Maybe. And if she were her old self, her well rested, properly fed, not overly stressed out self, then maybe the entire concept wouldn't be as disheartening as it felt currently. But she wasn't sleep. Eating. And had been panicking over Shae since she left. Then she'd also had to worry about Alwood.

There was just a lot going on, all at once, and while she'd craved such things, back when she was originally with Fairy Tail, out on jobs with the biggest safety net of all waiting back home, or maybe even during her time spent on the road, where she knew she could cut and run, had no ties at all, and could leave whenever she needed, things just weren't that way anymore. She was playing in something bigger than herself and failure wasn't just something she could pretend didn't exist. Could twist into small gains and wins to hide in her own ego. The ultimate goal, the final stakes, were far too high.

Crigin had gotten the first of the three women he found, T, and marched her right to the shed. The guard that had sent Locke on his way, Anderson, didn't refused to look at Haven and, instead, it was mainly Crigin's gaze that she was left with, the sickening feeling crawling back into her throat as he spoke to T.

"She's fucking one of the guards," Crigin remarked with a leer Haven's way. "Caught 'em."

"N-Not me!" Anderson tossed up his hands when T glanced his way. "I was just-"

"I'll take her from here," T assured both men simply. "If you'll allow me."

"Go right ahead," Crigin remarked with a demented grin thrown Haven's way. Still, she tried hard to avoid his gaze, to portray shame, maybe fear? She did feel something, at least, when T gripped her arm rightly and the older woman began to walk her back across the property, leaving the shed behind.

The others were out bathing. Haven could hear them nearby, in the pond. T only forced her into the bunkhouse, taking her over to the typical head women's table and shoving her towards it.

"Sit," she told Haven tightly and while she wasn't the one to usually follow directives, she did so automatically in that moment.

T disappeared from the cabin for a short time, in which she seemed to only go and gather her two cohorts as it was the three of them, soon enough, that Haven found herself speaking with.

Gyu was the one that sat directly in front of her, her dark hair pulled tightly back in a bun, leaving her wrinkled, sun-dried face to be fully exposed. Her eyes felt heavy as they forced Haven's gaze and when she spoke, it was in a stern tone.

"Ewing's manor," Gyu remarked slowly. "It's been a bit, since I've found myself off this one. However, that name still strikes a certain...fear in the heart. What exactly did you do to find yourself sent away from there?"

"I was really," Haven told her simply, "shitty at my job."

T coughed, trying to hide what might have been a laugh into it, while Wanda only slammed an open fist down on the table and Haven could tell, already, that she would be her biggest problem.

"Do you think," Wanda questioned her tightly, "that this is a joke?"

"No," Haven replied, swallow. "I just...was really shit there too."

"Is that how you think it works?" Gyu asked then. "That you can just be terrible at the work that they give you and get shipped around? Is that what you hope?"

"I-"

"It doesn't matter." T cleared her throat this time, after speaking. Then, she added, "Whatever you did here… It didn't matter. And sleeping with that guard has done little to assist you either. Nothing that you did here mattered. The second you came."

"T," Gyu began, but the other woman only shrugged.

"It's nearly the end of the week," T insisted. "Alwood will surely depart then. And she'll be accompanying him." Then, looking at Haven, she said, "There. That's truth. You drew the short end of the stick. Nothing you did mattered; it was decided before you even knew what was happening."

This was hardly news to Haven, something she'd long figured out, but still, she tried hard to feign some surprise as she questioned, "Alwood?"

"I warned you." Wanda was still glaring at her. "That first day. I was the one that welcomed you and the others to the manor. And I told you the people were you were not to mess with. The guards. The Master. And Master Alwood. I told you that the work was easy and you merely had to do as you were told. But you couldn't, could you? You just had to sneak away, every other day, to be with your precious little guard-"

"You," Gyu interrupted with a look then, to Wanda, "knew?"

"I… I did note her absence, yes. It is my job to keep tallies of the women through the course of the day," Wanda defended. "She hardly chose to hide herself. And Wick has been suspicious of that new guard anyways. He's spoken to me on it."

"You talk to Wick about things before you speak on them to us?" T asked with a look, but as Wanda only glared, Gyu shook her head some, focusing back in on the younger woman before them.

"By the end of the week," she told her simply, "you will find yourself heading out to Master Alwood's manor, will you will find a far less pleasurable experience awaiting you."

"What does he do?" Haven thought to ask as, though she knew the answer, it would still benefit her to sound concerned.

"Sells us," Gyu shifted then, to roll up her sleeve and reveal it herself. Her marking.

Haven had no doubt it had stained her skin for the majority of her life and, yet, it looked the same. Stark and out of place. For someone who grew up seeing emblems adorn flesh, the slave marking felt insulting. It meant great pride, to have embedded on your flesh the marking of your guild. And yet here...here…

"And not for normal means," the woman continued before, with a shrug, she rolled back down her sleeve. "Though, perhaps it could be considered that."

"Why?" Haven asked. "Did he pick me? Or you picked me? To go there?"

"We don't...pick people go with him." T was focused back in on her then, it seemed. "It's our job to chose women, for the Master. It's his discretion for the ones he doesn't want to be given to Master Alwood. That's not our decision."

"But you chose who went up to penthouse. Didn't you?" Looking around the table at the three of them then, Haven insisted, "the three of you decide who gets to go upstairs and who immediately goes off to Alwood's place. You chose for me to go-"

"We do," Wanda took over, her tone still tight as she, quite clearly, was annoyed with the younger woman, "what we're ordered to. The same as you."

"You hold power," Haven retorted. "And I don't. You're not the same as me."

"Power?" T questioned.

"Power," Haven agreed. "I didn't choose to come here. And I bet you didn't either. But you get to choose how long I stay. I don't."

But Wanda only snorted. "You slept with a guard. To try and get this 'power'. Didn't you?"

Leveling her gaze with the woman's Haven said, "If I'm going to Alwood's, why are you even concerned with me? Any of you?"

It was while the three of them were so keyed into her though that it happened. A sharp knock at the bunkhouse door before it was flung open.

There he stood then, Wick, the grizzled man having something dark in his eyes as he held a woman tightly by her forearm. Haven didn't recognize her and, honestly, the three women at the table had mostly forgotten her presence until that moment. It was Lize, eyes welled with tears and confusion as well as a bit of pain, maybe, as Wick's grip seemed like a vice.

Wanda jumped up, immediately, rushing over while the other two women only stared curiously.

"Another?" Wanda asked softly, but Wick merely huffed heavily.

"The young Master has decided to make a trade, with Alwood, at the request of one of the guards." Releasing the woman, Wick shoved Lize some, further into the bunkhouse. "She's going with Alwood now. The other one, there… She's not."

"But-"

"Monty's orders," Wick cut Wanda off. "You're to keep that one in the Factory. For now. And send this one with the others when it's time, to Master Alwoods. Understood?"

As she nodded slightly, Wanda only moved then to gently pull Lize towards her. She jerked away, once, Lize did, but at Wanda's insistence, only sniffled some and allowed herself to be tugged along.

Then Wick was gone and Haven wasn't of concern any longer. There seemed to be some confusion, among the three, but they couldn't rightly hash it out right then and there and instead split up. Gyu needed to go get the women from the pond while the other two had to gather the prepared dinner rations from the kitchen in the main house. Their typical schedule was already altered and they needed to get back on it.

Wanda left Lize with a bit of a reassuring smile, maybe, and a gentle command to just rest, and then it was just the two of them. In the bunkhouse. Haven slowly rose from the table to go stare at where Lize sat, a mess, there on one of the bottom bunks. At the feeling of her gaze, Lize rose her own and then they were just staring at one another there, for a long few seconds, in silence.

"Don't cry too much," Haven offered easily, not much of one to provide sympathy or comfort. "You're not going to fucking Alwood's." Raising up an arm, she didn't anticipate her lightning this time, knowing it was still locked away, but rather allowed some of the demonic energy to ooze from her palm, purple and glowing, toying a bit with what she contained. "No one is."

But this wasn't well known to Shae who, at that moment, was pacing about the penthouse, a wreck, and feeling rather lost.

"It makes sense," one of the women tried to reason, early on, when Monty had slunk off, alone for once, to his bedroom, and the remaining women stowed away in one all together. "I mean, he usually wouldn't choose outside of the pattern, but they did bring three girls up, remember? But only sent one down? He's probably trying to balance the numbers."

But this did little to ease the concerns of the women amassed in the small room as they considered, now, their own value and placements.

Taree, softly, questioned, "Pattern?"

"Aye." One of the women, a gaunt and pale one that seemed to hail from Seven given her accent, spent her time drinking from a bottle of liquor, by the window, where she watched the moon rise in the summer evening. "Monty gets a shipment in, every two months, some women are sent up here, some are sent down. It cycles. Lize… She'd been here the longest, now. Hasn't she? Since I've come, at least. It was her turn. Can't skate by forever."

"How can you say that?" Shae had her arms crossed over her chest, a sour look on her face as she insisted, "Lize was one of us. She-"

"One of us?" Another woman clicked her tongue. "What the fuck does that even mean? Do you think that Lize would worry about us? If we were sent down? Issa just was. Sent down. To make room for you, Taree, and Anna. It's the way that it works."

"But why?" Shae questioned. "Huh? I'm not going to fucking go. Are you? Any of you? Fuck this. And they're not taking Lize. She doesn't belong to them. To anyone. I'm going to get her back."

"Oh yeah?" The woman from Seven paused her drinking, just to glance over at her. "How exactly?"

Shae felt like she was undercutting Haven and Locke, maybe completely blowing up whatever the two of them had going on, but finally, she seemed to have the full attention (though also animosity, maybe) of all the women in the penthouse and it felt like her chance. Her opportunity. The point was to get all the women in the penthouse on the same page, on her side, and, well, it was now or never.

"The guard that I was with, that first night..." Shae reached into her bra then, to produce some of the vials Locke had given her. "He's into some...weird shit. I took these off him."

"W-What are they?" Anna asked softly.

"Potions," Shae assured them all with a nod. "They're to knock someone out."

"What are you going to do with them?" one of the other women asked, eyeing her then and Shae only shook her head.

"I don't know." Gripping them tightly though, she insisted, "But we have to do something. We can do something."

"And fuck it up," the woman from Seven asked around her drink, "and all get sent to Alwood's?"

"Where the fuck do you think we're going anyways?" Shae retorted. "We'll all come down from this penthouse eventually, but I'm not going as a crying little bitch. Fuck Monty and fuck Al-"

"Shut up." One of the women, a dark headed one who'd kept mostly quiet in all the time Shae had been up in the penthouse, sprang to her feet at that. Momentarily, Shae feared some sort of weird, protect your abuser situation to sprout as the woman advanced on her, but it wasn't to attack or reprimand her. Not truly. Instead, she only reached to snatch one of the bottles, rolling it around in her own hand before saying, "We have to keep our voices down. If we're going to do this. We have to-"

"You're going to get yourselves fucking killed." The woman from Seven wasn't letting up. Only continued to glare out at the window. "You know that?"

"We just have to get out of this penthouse," Shae insisted. "And if we use this to drug...someone, then-"

"Then what? You get out of the penthouse and then what?" the other women kept up. "Huh? The other guards catch you and-"

"And what if we've drugged them too?" Taree asked, again softly. "Maybe?"

"Fine," the woman from Seven gave in. "You drug them too and then you make it downstairs. Somehow passed Alwood and his own entourage. Then what? You go into the factor, take Lize, and go where? Huh? Just run off, away from the property? They will hunt you down. All of you. And probably kill you. They don't let shit like this go easily."

"What even is this?" one of the women asked. "An uprising?"

"Could be." The dark haired woman before Shae glanced about all of them. "This could be the start of something. I'm from fucking Joya. We just don't lie down and die there. We do something about it. I… I might even already having something of a plan."

There was a lot of head shaking and drinking that night, but for the first one in a long time, all of the women in the penthouse avoided the filthy hands of the young master or his guards and it was difficult to call any night spent under such threats as comfortable, but it was the closest it could become.

Locke had a terrible night though. After leaving Monty, he skipped out on dinner and instead hid out in his room where a few of the guys knocked at his door and spoke to him lightly, but overall, he just laid awake worrying about the consequences of the morning. If everything went to shit and Haven wasn't spared, then he'd have to get both her and Shae out of there. It would be no small feat, but surely the one he'd signed up for.

His eyes were red and the sun felt too bright, when the morning came around, but he only tumbled out of his bed regardless, off to try and stomach a meal before facing the day's decisions.

Downstairs in the kitchen, he got some of the judgmental stares of his equals, which sucked, but it was very overshadowed by the fact Alwood's assistant was there as well, having just requested a tray from the kitchen and now carrying it off, no doubt to the man himself. Faced with claiming a seat at one of the table with the other guards or helping out the woman, Locke rushed to take the tray from her.

"Hey," he greeted as he did so. "Let me carry that for you."

She smiled at him, warmly, allowing this as she remarked, "I'm just heading to your Master's office. My own is very busy in there, after all."

"After all," Locke agreed, frowning some at the thought of the man. "I was just about to eat myself, before my first shift."

"You do keep a rather tight schedule," she agreed with him. "Well, from what I hear."

And he frowned then, at her, before saying, "What do you mean?"

"Nothing much ever happens on this property, the few times I've been around," she replied simply. "So you decided, just for me, to cause a big stir before I leave? I must thank you for breaking up the monotony."

Paling some, he remarked, "I don't know what you-"

"Men gossip just as much as women," she assured him curtly. "They just don't realize it enough to properly revel in it. Everyone knows. Well, everyone of importance, I guess. This might be surprising to you, but that most certainly includes myself and my master. Every action has a reaction."

Locke only shook his head as he told her, "I really don't wanna talk about-"

"Neither do I," she said. "I just thought it would be awkward not to bring up. On any other manor, especially of this size, this would hardly be of concern. But the young Master has certain….peculiar figures in his life that serve to further complicate his situation. Such as the one approaching."

They were nearing the office then while, from it, Wick appeared, toying with the cuffs of his shirt with a disgruntled look on his face. When he glanced up and saw Locke, however, this look only seemed to form into legitimate disdain as he headed towards the approaching pair.

"Hux," he barked as the man in question came to a stop. "I need to speak to you." Then he glanced to the assistant. "Privately."

"And I," she agreed with a bow of her head before moving to retrieve the tray once more and carry on without the lowly guard, "must get this to my master. Gentlemen."

Though Locke's eyes followed after her, Wick's merely stayed on the younger man, taking in a deep breath before letting it out roughly through is nose.

"Come on," he ordered gruffly. "We're going for a walk."

Locke really didn't want to, but had long learned to swallow his own consequences. Wick, for the nearly two months Locke had been on the manor, had always seemed distant and void, almost. Save the previous day when he'd gotten all flustered over his daughter, Locke mostly saw him with a deep frown and deeper crease in his forehead that only became more burrowed the worse Monty's antics for the day became. He was quite clearly the behind the scenes ringleader of the perverse circus and yet, at the same time, the most distanced to the illicit. He seemed disappointed, at times, bothered by the actions, but certainly for the wrong reasons.

Outside, the morning was hot and Locke felt uneasy, for some reason. Like a horse being out of the barn just to take one to the temple back behind it, put out of his own misery. Wick was a seething, strong silent type and, after having a master back in Fairy Tail who'd exhibited those same habits at times, Locke knew very well that he could be in immense shit. The longer the silence, the louder and more pronounced it became.

Removed from everything, the land could have been rather beautiful to take in. He'd always heard that about Bosco, anyways, when it was spoken on for more than it's darker activities. It was hailed as being very breathtaking in the winter and Locke imagined, sometimes, what all the fields would look like, covered in unbroken white snow. He'd grown up almost entirely in the city and it always felt nice, when he was traveling, to see how the seasons affected other parts of his own country.

But then, of course, nothing could ever be fully removed from its context. There was a heaviness that surrounded the entire property, if not continent, and though Locke could separate himself at times, it always felt so jarring when he was quickly forced back into reality. Seeing one of the other guards, catch a glimpse of The Factory, the bunkhouse, or even just to hear a conversation of someone else… It was a foreboding essence that wallowed in every sector of the area and to wade through it, in hopes of escaping it, was a fool's journey.

Wick led him passed The Factory, where Locke imagined Haven was very busy (or perhaps not; he wasn't quite sure what the other women were going to do with her or, even, when he'd get a chance to see her again) and it made the younger man sigh, rather noticeably. The other man didn't even glance at him though, continuing on, instead, passed the bunk house even, and out to the pond behind it. Standing before it with his arms crossed over his chest, Wick seemed to examine the sunrise's reflection on the water before speaking.

"Monty," he began simply, "seems to enjoy you more than he has any other, in recent times, and that is the sole reason you are here currently. I would have had you off this property last night, were it any other case."

Locke waited, for more, but when none seemed to be coming, he said, "I guess I just don't understand what the big deal is. Sir. We all, uh… The women in the penthouse… What difference does it make? If I was spending time with one of the ones that work downstairs?"

"What difference does it make?" Wick grit his teeth, the crease in his forehead deeper than it should be, so early in the morning. Snorting, he said, "It's about respect."

It felt weird, wrong, to hear his own phrasing played back at him in the light of a new day and Locke had to look off, frowning some, as he realized just how wrong it would have sounded to Monty when the words came from his own mouth.

"I really don't think," Locke whispered back, softly, "the women feel, uh, respected either way-"

"Not them, you lout." Wick shook his head. "I gave you a goddamn order. One that you were meant to adhere to. The reason for the rules, why they matter, has no bearing on what you do or don't do."

Making a face, Locke looked down at his feet before agreeing. "Right. I...I shouldn't have done that. Sir."

"You disrespected me. As a fucking rook, no less. It's embarrassing. For you." Wick finally glanced at him then, taking a bit of stock of him before asking, "What is it? That you have back where you're from? In Fiore? Tribes?"

"Guilds?" Locke questioned to which the man merely shrugged.

"What would happen to you? Huh? If you fucked up, disrespected, your guild like you have here?"

"W-Well...I guess I'd have to apologize," Locke told him truthfully. "Sincerely. And then maybe do some extra work for Master, probably."

"That's fucking it?"

"I mean-"

"That's why your kingdom's gone to goddamn shit. Always has been." Wick turned then, to face the other man. "We don't raise our boys that way here. We make them men. Should have some of the other guys beat the shit out of you. Teach you something."

Locke didn't take a step back, rather raising his eyes to meet the man's as effortlessly his right arm was overtaken by his magic, metal plating encasing the appendage.

"I think I already know," the younger man retorted, "all that I plan on learning."

But Wick was the one who broke his gaze, to look over the pond again as he growled, "We were brothers. The men over me. When I was your age. Goddamn brothers. What the fuck happened to this place?"

This hung between them for a long few moment as Locke internally debated his next thoughts. But he didn't imagine himself ever presented with such an opportunity again, no matter how much longer his time on the manor might be, and only swallowed some before opening his mouth.

"Monty told me," he said, "that you had a kid with a woman. From The Factory."

This felt like some sort of trump card, or at least would elicit some sort of emotion from the other man, but Wick only continued to glare off for a moment before shrugging.

"Shit was different."

But Locke was about tired of that response to any and every action that took place on the manor.

"How?" he pressed and he expected a swift knock to the head or some more curses from the man, but Wick seemed taken aback, maybe, by his knowing the revelation (it was difficult to tell given how stoic the man was) and answered him honestly.

"She wasn't product," he said rather bluntly, in a way that Lock wasn't ready for. "She was property."

"I..." Now Locke did take a step back, physically and mentally. It was hard to shock him, now so deep in the shit, but though he'd heard the women refereed to in rather degrading matters, Wick really had gotten it out as simply as possible. There was no lust justification or inebriated slurring. Just a flat explanation. Still, Locke questioned, "What's the difference?"

"That women you're messing around with? She doesn't belong to Monty. She belonged to Alwood. Or, even without their arrangement, whoever he chooses to sell her to. And you don't make enough to reimburse him for what he'll make off her," Wick assured him. "But I… The women were different, fuck, even just a decade ago. They were used to fulfill a service. Not meant to be sold off. Once Master had them, they were his. They weren't fucking going anywhere. I was...wrong, but not nearly to the… Fuck the women in the goddamn penthouse and leave the others alone. Alright? And I don't want to have to have anymore fucking conversations with you."

Wick started away then and Locke knew better than to add any more questions to his back. Still, in a sneer over it, Wick added, "Put damn your damn armor away. And I want you to get Monty in line today. His uncle leaves soon and I don't want anymore messes. Do you understand?"

He did, but also was very aware that this was easier said than done.

Looking over the pond himself, even for just a moment, Locke watched the sun's rays glint and sparkle indulgently, before turning to rush back up to the manor and take his lumps from the other, less sympathetic guys.

Still, his foreboding thoughts and feelings weren't far off. Though he'd effectively spared Haven from the current chopping block, she was still now personally stuck on the same deadline. There was no way that she was going to let some other woman suffer in her place, but the only real way she could find around it currently was the outright revolt that she'd all but assured the others that she could accomplish.

She'd come to realize, however, that this was not going to easily be the case.

"What do they do to them? Up there?" Haven asked Bea that day at lunch. She'd seen Lize, that morning, shivering under a blanket, not sobbing, but ghastly and vacant. The other woman who'd come down before her cared for her that morning, while the others left for work, and Haven wondered if she could hang back too. If she should. She'd done shit all in convincing the older women to join forces with her and perhaps it would be more beneficial for her to try her hand at rallying just the two of them. What could they do to her, anyways? She felt like now that Locke had managed to spare her, she would no doubt find her way up to the penthouse as well and that provided her with some protection, maybe.

But…

She also didn't want to aggravate any of the older women any more than she already had. She needed them still to follow her should the time come.

"Don't rightly know," Bea remarked as she scratched, awkwardly, maybe, as she seemed less at ease than normal, "but I could hanker a guess-"

"I meant for them to withdrawal so badly," Haven retorted with a frown. "After only a few hours. They have to be plying them with something."

"Sedatives and liquor." Bea's finger slipped beneath the path, scratching at the dry flesh beneath it. "What I've heard anyways."

Haven frowned some, down at her lunch, before saying, "I can't just let them go to Alwood's. When it was supposed to be me."

Again, there was an awkwardness where Bea wouldn't rightly glance at her and it didn't feel like she was sitting beside the same woman. She still did find her words though, eventually, merely questioning Haven, "Why not? You found a way to escape a worse fate."

"We haven't escaped anything," Haven grumbled around a slice of bread. "We're still stuck here. What now? I'm going to work in this dumb factory forever?"

"What would you rather? Be them? Or you?"

"Neither." The younger woman glanced down at her marking then, there, on her arm. "Those aren't the only two options. You know? I've told you before, we could… If it came down to it, and I did manage to start something, would you support me?"

"How?" Bea even laughed, but it was humorless. "What could we possibly do to them? With Alwood here on top of that? Those women are going with him. I don't know what you did with that guard, but lucky you, you're not. Be thankful for that. Don't think too much about it. Self-preservation is more important than anything else. You can't help anyone if you're dead."

"You're not dead," Haven retorted. "And what help are you to anyone?"

This time, there was no laugh. Just a cold stare.

"Careful," Bea warned the younger woman softly. "I might not be what I used to, but-"

"I'm not trying to fight with you," she kept up though. "I'm just saying that, eventually, you will die here. If someone doesn't do something. And I'm trying-"

"I would shut up." And Bea shifted away from her then, a slight shake of her head as she glanced over at where the trio of women sat. "Before you have to have another meeting with the three of them."

And as Haven's eyes drifted over, she found Wanda's awaiting them. But she didn't look around. Just glared right back.

Because it was fucking pointless. Trying to play this place the same as Ewing's manor. She wasn't going to elicit anything with the women downstairs because they were too complacent. Had had too much of a chance to accept their fate. There was an obvious threat, at Ewing's manor, but it didn't exist for the older women here. All of their fire had been put out long before Haven ever arrived.

Not being able to even stomach the food anymore, she pushed it over to the woman, bridging the distance as she said simply, "I'm not ready to give up. I can't. So… You don't have to help me. And you can pretend like you had no idea, about anything, if it all goes to shit, but just be ready, alright? I'm not someone who fails at shit."

Bea took a rather deep breath then before, slowly, dragging Haven's portions over to herself. Letting out the breath, she said simply, "You ended up here. Had to have failed something."

Stomach scaring itching, Haven found she was rather thankful for it, anyways, when the trio finally stood to signify the end of break.

That evening, when they all went to bathe in the pond, most seemed a bit surprised to see Lize up and seemingly so well, but she only stripped down along with them, Issa beside her, and the duo immediately set over to where Haven stood alone in the lukewarm water.

"You said," Lize addressed her with a troubled voice, "that you were going to stop me from going. From us going. Did you mean it?"

Standing up straight, Haven nodded at them both as she said, "Yeah. I did."

"Then...what?" Issa, for the first time, spoke to the typical blonde and Haven eyed her as well as the newcomer. "What is your plan?"

"W-Well, see that's the thing…" Haven shrugged some, maybe a bit bashful from her state of undress, perhaps theirs, but most certainly her admission. "I kind of...like to just wing it?"

Lize stared at her there, for a long few moments, emotionless other than a soft, steady nod as she considered her next words in a way Haven could be envision of.

"So you're both morons," she said simply. "That's great. The two of you came in together, didn't you? You and Shae? Something new in the slave markings? Does it sear right into your brains? Or-"

"Shae knows nothing about winging anything," Haven huffed with a frown. "She's not even a fucking mage. If she thinks that her escape plan is anything close to the one I'm going to cook up, soon, then-"

"Who," Issa complained, "are you two talking about?"

But Lize paused then, to glance Haven over again before asking, "Are you the mage? That can get around the barrier?"

And Haven couldn't help it. She groaned, rather loudly, perhaps too much so, as she griped, "She fucking told you? Did she tell anyone else? She knew how much I liked it, when I got to show it off at Ewing's place-"

"Ewing?" Issa frowned. "You mean...where all those slaves escaped from?"

"So everyone's heard about it?" Haven couldn't help it. Her annoyance at Shae was washing back into her typical undeserved pride. "I mean, I did single handedly lead a rebellion, but-"

"You what?" Lize asked.

"I just heard that some slaves escaped," Issa was quick to add. "From...Monty. Before. Alwood contacted him and was worried about it and he...confided in me, or whatever, but-"

"It was a healthy number," Haven defended. "And only a few casualties. And it wasn't all on me, single handedly, actually, so-"

"She meant it then?" Lize questioned. "That she came here on purpose?"

"Yeah." And Haven sobered, finally, letting out a held breath of her own as she said, "She did. We all did."

"All?" Lize pressed, but Haven only shook her head.

"Just...have faith in me. And her." Smiling some, the typical blonde tossed up an arm, tapping where her guild marking usually resided as she insisted, "No matter what, you're not going to Alwood's. I won't let you."

While this allowed Lize an at least somewhat less fitful night's sleep, Shae, on her ends, sat awake, watching the other women retired one by one, with Monty stealing off two when he came in, until she was the last with any sort of consciousness.

This was intended, however, as she was still sitting to attention when the door opened softly and, quiet as a mouse, Wick's daughter entered with her cleaning gear. She didn't seem rightly shocked to see Shae there, but apprehensive as always. Even more so when Shae rose, the second she was beyond the threshold.

"I know, I know," the older woman insisted with an outstretched hand, "we're not supposed to talk. I understand that. But...can you do me a favor?"

The teen frowned some, down at the folded envelope that Shae presented her, before shaking her head heavily.

"If Father caught me sending a letter somewhere," she whispered softly, "then it would only get you in trouble. And I couldn't go into town, to send it either, if that's what you think, because-"

"It's for someone in the mansion," Shae insisted. "Won't even have to deviate, really, from your routine. Just slip it under their door for me. Will you?"

"I don't-"

"No one will ever know," Shae insisted. "And it'll be a way to pay me back, right? After your father shoved me, the other day? We'll be all even. For real."

She hesitated, the girl did, but did reach out finally, with shaking hands, to accept the envelope. Softly, she asked, "Who's room?"

"A guard. Hux. Will you be able to figure that out? Or-"

"I know their room assignments," the teen assured her. "B-But...is this...like...a love letter?"

Shae took a step back, confused for a second by the accusation, before slowly nodding, "I mean...sure. Yes. I… Sort of?"

This seemed to suffice for the teen as she even smiled, for the first time, cheeks a bit rosy as she assured the woman, "I understand."

No possible way for her to, Shae wanted off the subject as she questioned, "Can I ask you something? It's just- Do you live here? On the property? You said you can't go into town and-"

"My father has his own section of the manor," the teen offered meekly. "Down in the basement area. I stays there with him. Away from the guards. All of the...paid staff does. Live down there."

And this time, her blush was rooted far more in embarrassment, but Shae merely nodded.

"Then you're paid?" she kept up. "To be here?"

"Not exactly..."

"Then what?"

"I… My father has an arrangement. Or he did. With the former Master. And now the current, I guess." She sighed some, the girl did, as she said, "My father had an...indiscretion and I… You're not from here, but… In Bosco, when you're born to a, uh, a marked, you… So he had to make an arrangment for me to-"

"It's okay. Really." And Shae reached out then, but this time the girl didn't shy away from the touch. Gently, the woman tapped the teen on the shoulder, speaking sincerely as she insisted, "You've really helped me. And I don't even know your name."

"Nessa," the girl offered with a bit of a grin and Shae returned it, nodding heartily as she insisted.

"Thank you, Nessa." Turning, Shae remarked, "You can get to work now. I won't bother you again."

As she head back into the bedrooms though, Shae did so with intention for once. Noting the dark haired woman from before on one of the beds, she went to gently shake her shoulder, leaning down close to her ear as she whispered, "Delivered."

Peeking a lazy eye open, the other woman smiled, just a bit, as she nodded.

"Good," she whispered as Shae went to fall into the other bed. "Then soon."

"Yeah," Shae agreed. "Soon."

A few hours would pass though, before the transition was fully delivered. Nessa would slip it under Locke's door near sundown, when the hall was completely empty and only he heard the soft knock against his door as she quickly rushed away, to get back downstairs before her father noted any irregularity in her usual schedule. He'd need to be up soon and it had always been her job to personally fix his breakfast.

Her knock though did startle the slowly rousing Locke up. After not getting a wink the night before, his heavy and contorted heart drifted off unceremoniously that night and he was wracked with concern, when he was truly woken just before the crack of dawn.

Blinking around his dark, tiny room, it took him a good few minutes of blinking and remembering to even spot the letter. It stuck out, white and bright, against his door wooden flooring, even in just the light of the moon.

"Shit," he whispered as he slipped out of bed to grab it.

He thought it was from the assistant. It made sense to him. She seemed rather into him. Which was a problem. A massive one. But was quite clearly overshadowed by the more pressing matters that were currently circulating in his brain.

But when he tried to open it, he was met with a magical barrier. A seal. Someone had protected the letter.

Shae, not versed in magic, had no idea such a thing was even possible. But as one of the women, two nights ago, had suggested as they all plotted together, applying such a seal to the letter, another only rolled her eyes heavily at the suggestion.

"No one can access their magic," one retorted dryly and they all felt rather low until the dark haired woman, the other from Joya, spoke up once more.

"Monty doesn't have magic," she informed the others. "I've never felt it on him. But I have seen him finish up letters before. We all have, around the apartment. He has some sort of device, to seal them magically. If we can find it-"

"He passed out." The woman from Seven stood, nodding her head a bit as she insisted, "I'll get it."

There seemed to be a real sense of comradery going, maybe, and Shae really felt, for the first time in the manor, as if this all had a shot of working. Of happening.

"Your person on the outside," Taree asked her softly at one point, "you're sure that they can get it all done?"

"Yep," Shae agreed with a nod. "Absolutely."

"Do you have a symbol?" another woman insisted as they all crowded round where Shae, on the end of one of the beds, wrote out a set of directives for Locke to follow. "That both of you would know? For them to easily open the envelope?"

They didn't. She'd have never thought of them needing such a thing. And Locke, as he stood in his bedroom then, in a cold sweat as he was now faced with figuring one out, had no clue what she'd pick either.

There was only one symbol, really, that he knew, that anyone would ever associate with him, and when he tried it, he was a bit surprised to find it worked.

Shae had seen it quite a few times, over the spring and early summer months they spent back at base camp. It peeked out beneath the arm of most his shirts and was especially eye catching when they all played around in the river during the warmer days. His black guild marking had adorned the flesh of his left arm, just as his father's, never moving since the day his original master's wife bestowed it upon him. He knew it by heart and his own skipped a beat, as his breath held, when after tracing it, a magic circle appeared, breaking the seal.

His eyes traced the paper a few times, something of relief, originally, flooding him as he realized the letter had definitely come from Shae, though it was soon washed away with confirmation that, finally, a call to action had been placed.

And not only was he directly involved in it, in some ways, he'd directly brought it about.

The first step in it though had little to do with the women up in the penthouse and, instead, the ones outside.

Haven saw Locke, they all saw him, honestly, that morning as they left the bunkhouse, walking determinedly across the lawn, but she thought best not to stare at him. He kept coming though. And coming. Right for her.

Haven wanted shock him, really badly, when he grabbed her arm tightly, no doubt bruising her flesh as he jerked her out away from the other women. He had everyone's gaze now, but Locke wore a look Haven wasn't exactly accustomed to from the man, dark and authoritative.

Gyu, the one of the trio closest, immediately cleared her throat and called out to him.

"Where are you taking-" she began, but he cut her off.

"Learn your place, slave, before I remind you," he retorted, ignoring Haven's gaze as she stared up at him with wide eyes. Voice dark, he remarked, "Don't ever fucking question me. Master's orders. If you wanna take it up with him, be my fucking guest."

Some of the women were walking faster then, gaze down and trying to escape the man's brewing rampage, but Gyu only took a deep, annoyed breath, before nodding and continuing on, with the others, towards The Factory.

"Break my fucking arm, I guess, Hux," Haven grumbled when he'd pulled her further out into the yard, out of earshot of most everyone.

"Shut up." His jaw was tight and his voice hardly above a whisper. "Shae's got a plan. And-"

"I," Haven complained in a whisper of her own as she resisted the urge to jerk away from him, "have a plan." When Locke only looked down at her though, expecting more, she defended, "Well, I mean, I'll have one by the time I need one, but-"

"Be fucking serious."

Now she really wanted to shock him.

"Look." Releasing his grip, Locke discreetly slipped a sheet of paper into her hands. "Read this over. I'm not sure where you fit in, but they got this all timed out. We're going to take them by fucking surprise. You're going to have to keep these women out of it until you see the signal. Okay?"

She couldn't exactly disagree, but without reading over anything, also couldn't give a very enthusiastic answer. Merely nodded some before remarking, "Don't, like, get your dumbass killed or something."

Grimacing some, Locke seemed to lose the composure he was attempting and his voice was softer as he insisted, "It'll be okay. This will work."

"Yeah," Haven agreed as he took a step back from her. "It always does."

They were both stuck in a bit of the same place though, even as he moved back from her and Haven, knowing what was awaiting her inside, rushed into the building. She would need to read over and figure out what to do on her portion of things while Locke, though having known the plan, still had quite a few blanks to fill in.

The first thing that Shae told him was that they were going to use the vials he'd given her to knock a guard unconscious. A specific one. Garth. He was a big guy, a bit older than Locke, and was known in particular for being a bit rough. With the women upstairs, when he passed The Factory women, fuck, even the paid help he was a bit of an ass too.

It didn't surprise Locke that they wanted him to be the first hit.

They would need a reason though, for him specifically to go up to the room. Alone, Shae had specified, underlining that part. Which would be a difficult enough task and yet, somehow, the easiest of the set.

Locke also needed to get all of the guards, as well as Alwood and his own, out of the house. That was crucial for the women easily getting downstairs, to the kitchen, and forcing the paid staff out in order to arm themselves. While Locke was aware that kitchen knives, no matter how large or sharp, would be nothing against magic, he imagined that with his help (as well as the whipping up of The Factory that Haven would do), they could more than subdue the men long enough for them to stage a scene, perhaps? Was that the plan? Make them think they'd run off into the woods, only to escape into the tunnels?

He wasn't certain. Shae hadn't specified. But he could see accomplishing this and decided on that being the endgame he had to work towards.

First though, he'd need to create a diversion. Something big enough to get all of the guards out into the yard. The front yard. Away from The Factory. And, for that, Locke knew the exact person to go to.

When he suggested to Monty that, to get back at Wick for being an ass (and the others too, Locke had offered with a bit of unease, but the other guy ate it right up), they could embarrass him. Big time. In front of Alwood, even.

"But," Locke insisted, "he'd have to really think it was an emergency. Something that kicked him into overdrive. Everyone."

"Yeah, I'm in." Monty even snickered. "They're all so fucking uptight. And for what? Nothing ever fucking happens here."

None of them really slept that night. Not Locke, not Haven, and certainly not Shae. Not the other women in the penthouse either.

When there was a sharp knock at the penthouse door that morning, Monty, who typically would grumble for having to get out of bed so early, was quick to pop right up, tumble into his typical red attire, and rushed to open it.

Shae, from the couch, couldn't quite see Locke, but she could hear his greeting of the Master and Monty laughed loudly at whatever the other guy said. Things seemed, tentatively at least, falling right into place.

It was a tense wait though, for all of the women, and the morning seemed to drag on for far too long. Still, it was around nine that the lock in the door slid and they all tensed, the women did, from where they were either pacing about in anticipation or cowering off, peaking around doorways.

It was Garth, just as Shae had requested, whistling and unconcerned as he entered the penthouse. Why should he be? Hux and Monty had approached him not long ago, making mention of needing him to fetch a few things for them from the penthouse.

"I left my keys up there," Locke told him. "When I went to get Monty this morning."

Which he definitely hadn't, given he hadn't entered, but Monty was more than a bit inebriated for the early hour. It had also been in Shae's note. She wanted him wasted and out of the way so Locke, while they worked on their prank earlier, had gotten him to take a shot with him, of which the elixir mage had secretly spiked. He feared that Monty would immediately note the ill-affects, but the man only laughed it off when he shook his head after downing the liquor, there in his office.

Having Locke around had felt good, the entire time, really, but even more so that morning, as they gently scraped red phosphorous from the tips matches and transferred bits into glass bottles they'd snagged from the kitchen. It felt boyish and good, reckless and refreshing, to not just get fucking wasted, no, but actually participate in some goddamn serious mischief again. The kind Monty would have found himself in a decade earlier, when he was bugging his father and Wick alike. Stink bombs were his usual motive of operation back in those days, but Locke insisted that they needed (not too vicious) explosions.

"Like small little pops," Locke suggested. "To get the attention of everyone. Then they all come running, even Alwood, maybe, and he sees Wick looking a fool while you sit up on your balcony, right? Seeming victorious?"

It actually sounded like a really shit, immature thing to do, even as Locke thought it up, but he knew this would be what sold Monty on the idea the most. The man was locked in a state of arrested development that Locke had never quite seen. Many of the men (and women) up at the guildhall found themselves vulnerable to the condition and exhibited traits of it frequently, but it was usually tied to whatever trauma had brought them to the hall in the first place. For Monty, he seemed to just flat out be an overwhelming loser with no aspirations or intentions beyond squandering his wealth and position.

Locke was sure that Astra had no idea what was really going on in Harval manor before she sent them there, but fuck, she couldn't have found an easier mark.

They went outside, to bury the bottles a bit in the dirt, just visable, they were certain, from his balcony. Then,it was easy to convince Monty they should seek out Garth on their way back inside, as well as getting the man to order the other guard to go up to the penthouse, alone, to fetch Locke's keys and some other things Monty wanted brought down. Papers he was meant to present Alwood with.

"Forgot 'em," the Master snickered a bit. "I was so busy with-"

Locke elbowed Monty then, with a look, and Garth glanced between them, but again, it was slowly becoming commonplace. Hux was a guard, fine, but it seemed distant in comparison to his friendship with Monty. He was blowing off his shift, even, Garth was pretty sure, that day, which was shit, but as the man climbed up to the penthouse, he kinda intended to do the same.

"Oh, no, Wick," he muttered under his breath in pretend surprise. "I know I was supposed to be making rounds, but Master had me go up to his penthouse to dig around for some paperwork."

Which was true enough. It just, uh, wasn't all he'd hoped to dig around in.

He made this crack, in his head, just as he opened the door, causing him to almost snicker as he walked in. Garth covered this though, with a whistle as he found most of the women up, rather early, all being very deliberate to not stare at him as he entered.

He could tell. That they were avoiding his gaze. Thinking, no doubt, that this would save him from his wraith. And it might, some of them, but at least one of them would definitely be following him back into one of the bedrooms; he'd make sure of it.

But as he approached where most of them were sitting, now, spread between the two couches, one of the women got to her feet. Rose. He knew her. Remembered her name. Mainly because of the rather on the nose tattoo she had on her left thigh of her namesake, in all it's shitty, overdone glory. She was the dark haired woman that had been so keen to believe and assist Shae, only a few days ago.

She was also the woman that Shae had given one of the vials to.

"What the fuck?" Garth complained as, once he was close enough, Rose popped the cork on the tiny vial, slinging the concoction inside into the face of the man before her. "What the hell did you just...did...you..."

Everything felt still. A moment passing where all the women, even timid Anna, who was hiding in the kitchen area, took a few passing glances around at one another, knowing that once it passed, once the moment came to an end, there was no going back from it.

"Is he...down? For good?" Shae got to her own feet, going to gently kick at the man with a frown before releasing a slow breath. Then, quickly, she added, "I'll get his gun."

It was what Locke hadn't quite understood, maybe didn't think to realize, but was a necessary key to what was meant to take place. The women were bound from any magic they might possess and, never knowing a single day of life in such a realm, Locke couldn't imagine seeking outside power.

To truly force anyone's hand though, Shae was certain as she pulled the sleek pistol that Garth kept holstered at his waist. He liked to taunt the women with it, at times, and as one of the few guys with no magical abilities, seemed to be the only one that carried.

"Have you ever...fired one? Before?" Rose questioned and, when Shae shook her head, she broadened her question. "Have any of you?"

"I have." Taree, tentatively, came forward to take the weapon when Shae offered it to her. "But...we won't really have to...will we?"

"It's a threat tactic," Shae assured her. "Until it isn't. But we should be able to make it to one of my two allies, the mages, and they'll help us with the next half of things. We just have to wait for the-"

And they could hear it. They imagined the entire house could. And as one of the women ran to glance out a bedroom window, the others waited on bated breath.

"They exploded something," the woman at the window reported. "And- And some of the guards are coming! To investigate. I see four, no, five, no- It looks like Wick is even coming to-"

"We have to go." And Shae grabbed the arm of the two women nearest to her, dragging them with her in hopes of keeping up the intention with the other amassed women as well. "Now. Down to the kitchen. And if we run into a stray guard, or Monty, we take them hostage. Alright?"

They looked like a hoard, as they exited the penthouse, of scantily dressed, underfed women and Shae knew that they had to be on their toes because it wouldn't take much for their plan to fall apart. Still, they did have to be some what cautious. After being sure to lock the door (and Garth) behind them, it was slowly that they all ventured, for the first time since their imprisonment, down the staircase to the second floor. If they were all too loud, rushing down, it would surely draw just as much suspicion.

But it was midday and, save the off chance of a stray guard on break, they had little chance of running into one on the second floor. Still, they held their breath and counted their blessings, maybe, as they made it to the staircase and started the final descent.

Taree leaded the way, brandishing the way, as they bum-rushed the kitchen. The women in it, working hard at lunch preparations for the guards, guests, and The Factory. There was already some tension, when all the guards in the manor fled out the front door with Wick yelling something about a fire, as well as those _pops_ they heard, but whatever was going on seemed to be winding down.

"Everyone," Taree yelled as they all stepped foot into the kitchen, holding the pistol with both hands, outstretched before her, finger across the trigger, "go out the backdoor. Now. Run."

"W-What's going on?" one of the kitchen staff asked and they were as foreign to the penthouse women as anyone. They knew, maybe, or at least the concept of them, having caught glimpses here or there, but as utensils and cutlery were dropped, it was only with a vague understanding of just who was making the demand. "Are you-"

"Now!" Shae took over, a dark look in her eye as she strode further into the kitchen. "Did you not hear her? Through the backdoor and run from the property. Because if we see you again..."

She didn't finish her warning. She didn't have to. Some were already backing away and, finally, one of them loudly instructed the others that they'd best do as they were told, leading to the kitchen emptying out until only the penthouse women remained.

Taree laughed, kind of, but it sounded distant as she lowered the weapon, no doubt feeling powerful in that moment. But she jumped, all the same when Rose loud began to bark orders from behind her.

"Get the biggest fucking carving knives you can find," the dark haired woman insisted to the others as they began to throw open drawers or pull them from a nearby block. "And from here on out… No mercy."

"No mercy," was the echoed declaration by a few, but as Shae grabbed a knife, a pit formed in her stomach as she considered someone she absolutely hoped they'd take it on.

She'd felt nervous, revealing that her person on the inside was the guard that they'd very much all seen paling around with Monty, and feared that it might lead to disbelief in the mission. So she'd kept it from them. Mentioned Haven and that was the most blatant she was willing to get for the time being.

But she also was reverent that the man would have told her, if it absolutely had to be that way, then allow it to be. He could take care of himself. Plus, from his healing magic, she was wholly uncertain if the man could even suffer a mortal wound. He'd told her, before, of his healing of broken bones and healing of gruesome wounds. The man was fine.

Still, he'd become something of an easy friend during the past few months and she'd like to find him before the others.

"What's the move?" Rose questioned her and Shae hesitated for a moment before assuring them of their most obvious target.

"Monty," she told them with a sharp nod.

"I didn't see him outside," the woman who'd looked through the window reminded. "At all. I don't know where-"

"If he set off those dumb bombs," Rose remarked them with a roll of her eyes, "then he's on the fucking balcony. To see it. He likes to set fireworks off from there too, sometimes."

"He has mentioned it," another woman muttered. "So-"

"Three of us will go get him," Shae decided then. "And the rest of you hide, okay? They'll see us take him hostage and rush in and you ambush them."

Rose wanted to keep the gun downstairs, but Shae was rather insistent that they take it with them, as it would be easier to control Monty with. And by the time the men figured out what was going on, they'd be downstairs with him, and the gun.

Taree went with Shae, obviously, but it surprised her when Anna rushed to follow, a knife in one hand, but both trembling heavily. Still, Shae nodded at her and the three made the trek up the stairs together once more. Or at least they intended to. As the others prepped themselves for the ambush and the other two bounded up the stairs, something else struck out to Shae.

Rather, someone.

"Shit," she whispered as, off to the corner near the stairs, she could see an alcove from which the timid face of the teenage girl peeked out. "Nessa."

"What's going on?" the teen asked softly, no doubt having been arose by the commotion. Shae imagined she slept during the day, given she was about through the evening and early morning hours. "How are you out? Is everything-"

"Listen to me." And as the other two rushed off ahead, Shae instead headed over to the teen. "Is there anyone downstairs with you? In the basement?"

"N-No. But-"

"Go back there."

"I-"

"Now." But when Shae reached for her this time, the teen had actually room to run away and she had to chase after her. "Just listen to-"

"My father-"

"Your father is fine," Shae growled as, catching her down the hall, she pulled the girl back to her before, having little time to think of anything, she took the only vial she had on her and tossed it the liquid into the young teen's face. "And you will be too."

As Nessa collapsed into a heap, Shae only groaned some more and began to drag her to the closest door she found find. A broom closet, overfilled with supplies, but with enough room to stuff the girl inside. She'd just have to remember to fetch her from it later on.

This delay allowed Taree and Anna to rush up the stairs themselves, however, and seek out Monty (and Locke) alone. They were actually exactly where Rose had surmised. On a balcony that over looked the front of the property.

Locke had never been out on it, less than half an hour earlier when he and Monty, after planting their little bottle bombs, climbed to over look them. Through his magic Locke summoned metal throwing stars, lining them up visually to be certain he'd nick the barely visible bottles they'd buried. Monty was struggling though, from the elixir Locke had given him, and leaned against the railing, looking over it with a droopy look.

"Reminds me of my father," he muttered softly as he looked over the yard with a hazy look. "Being up here."

Still staring down the his steel throwing stars, Locke remarked, "This reminds me of mine."

"Did you like him?" Monty asked and Locke only shrugged some, gearing up for his first throw.

"Sometimes. Not all the time." The loud bang of the first mini-bomb going off just about drown out the end of Locke's reply as he added, "But I always loved him."

Locke had five targets to hit and got each one on the first go. This was engaging enough for his inebriated partner in crime, but the blasts were even more so. They were loud as fuck and spawned little fires around where they'd exploded, which the first two guards that arrived immediately had to take to stomping out with their boots.

"What's going on?" came the loud complaint of Crigin as he and Wick, together, were rushing onto the scene and Monty was beside himself from above, watching silently only for a few minutes before he couldn't help his loud laughter.

It just so happened that Wick, Crigin, and Alwood had planned to head into town, for one last drink before the man took off (where, Monty had been certain when he relayed this to Locke, they'd no doubt trash his name and degrade him), meaning that Alwood tentatively came over to investigate as well, his two guards with him.

And Locke could see her, his assistant, not far off.

But at the sounds of Monty's ravenous laughter, eyes were directed upwards, Wick's forehead crease at it's maximum fold.

"Master!" Wick yelled up at him as Locke took a step backwards, giving a slight wave of a hand to the guys below them. "What's the meaning of this? Did you do this?"

But as Monty lifted his head, his laughter was dying off in his throat, leaving dark eyes and an even darker tone.

"Fuck you, Wick," he yelled, loudly now, instead of just whispering it to Locke, in his arcade. He felt so fucking vindicated, just from the looks of shock and dismay that crossed the faces of those amassed. Even the one on Alwood's face. "Fuck all you. This is my castle. I'm the fucking king. You hear that? I'll do what I want. None of you can fucking stop me."

"Young Master," Alwood called as the guards exchanged uneasy looks from down below. "I think you might have had too much to drink, far too early. Perhaps you would like someone to walk you back to your room-"

"I'm not going anywhere." And Monty meant it as he glared down at them. "Fuck you too. Uncle. All of you."

"Hey, dude, you gotta calm down," Locke whispered then as he reached out to pat the other guy on the shoulder. "You really shouldn't-"

"It's true, Hux," Monty insisted. "They shit on me. I told you that. They-"

The balcony door opened.

And that wasn't shocking to the young Master at first, as he was sure someone was coming to try and contain him, but then he seemed to note who actually was standing there and took a step back in confusion.

Surely he hadn't had that much to drink, had he?

"L-Ladies?" he questioned in a bit of surprise and while Locke had intended to fake his own, it wasn't quite so fake when he noted the gun clutched in one of their hands, causing him to quickly toss up his own. "W-What are you-"

"Monty?" Wick called up again, now more questioning as they couldn't see, all the way from down there, who exactly the two men were talking to.

"You're going," Taree said loudly then, hands shaking as she lifted the pistol to point it at the man, "to come with us. Downstairs. Now! And- Hey!"

Anna had been standing beside the other woman, crowding the short doorway between the hallway and balcony, but shoved up suddenly, tears in her eyes as she made a play for the gun. It took Taree off guard and she fell off to the side. Locke instinctively dove to help the woman, breaking her fall, but missing out on stopping the next portion of things.

"Hey," Monty whispered lowly as he swallowed. "Look, just put that down and-"

She didn't say a word though. Only fired the weapon weapon straight into the man's chest. The sound felt deafening, so close, and Locke winced some from the feeling. Everything felt like it happened in parts. As he looked from the woman with the weapon to Monty, however, it all came rushing back together and he knew he would need to begin to heal the man, as soon as possible.

But he didn't have a chance.

She tossed the gun, Anna did, down to the ground as she threw her hands over her face, her typical sobs taking over once more and both Locke and Taree seemed to realize, at the same time, they absolute _had to get that weapon._

Each dove for it, but unfortunately for Locke, Taree was the one who came up with it and he knew he could have attack her, strong-armed it away from her, but wasn't so sure that this was a good idea either.

"Hey," he tried as well as, while the woman rose, she pointed the weapon down at him now, while Monty moaned at their side. Locke stayed on his knees, hands upheld as he insisted, "I'm on your side. Okay? I-"

"Get up," Taree insisted. "And-"

"They're coming," Anna moaned into her hands behind the other woman. "They're going to kill us."

They were.

From down below, there had been some confusion as to what all was going on, but the gunshot was unmistakable and the second that Monty went down, and Wick was quick to begin barking orders as the men all rushed to get back inside the manor. Alwood's assistant was rushing as well, but it was to his side where, grabbing his arm, she harshly made an order of the man.

"Master, the carriage," she insisted, tugging a bit. "Now."

There was a slight hesitation from the man, but from his vantage point of the balcony, he knew the best place for him was far away from whatever brew had finally boiled over on Harval manor.

It was already prepared, a carriage was, in preparation for the trip in to two, but Alwood and his men headed straight to it. When the man at the reigns hesitated, clear concern over his master and home in general, Alwood only hissed harshly at him while one of his two bodyguards made a not too veiled threat.

This was all it seemed to take.

As one master fled, another lie bleeding to death on his balcony. Locke got to his feet and forced himself not to glance over at the man, not even when he called out for him. It wasn't as if he'd have much time to do anything for him. Only seconds later, Shae was shoving her way onto the balcony as well.

"What," she questioned tersely, "did you do?"

But Anna only sobbed and Taree kept her gun trained on Locke. It was to Shae that he looked however, red eyes wide.

"Fuck Monty," she decided suddenly and moved to grab Locke's arm and pull him forwards, nodding at Taree. "Give me the gun. The guard's the hostage now."

This was done quickly as Taree, seemingly, wanted nothing to do with the weapon and Anna, having done all she wished to with it, merely wept. Shae shoved Locke in front of her, pressed the muzzle of the gun into the small of his back and insisted, "March."

Locke was stiff as they went off, leaving Monty out there alone, still moaning, but not making any other intelligible sound. It wasn't exactly his place to plead for the man's life, and he wasn't even sure if it was worth it anyways, but his heart still pounded in his chest at the thought of leaving him behind.

But it wasn't like he had much time to worry about Monty, if any at all. Shae was rushing him down the stairs, knowing that what they would be facing. And she wasn't incorrect. What welcomed them on the first level was pure pandemonium.

The original plan, with the men rushing in with the intention of rescuing a hostage Monty, might have given them the results they desired, but after Anna fired the shot, they were all very aware of the need to get to the man as soon as possible.

So upon entering, they were met with the immediate ambush. Frail women brandishing carving knifes and the like, slashing wildly, and it did take them by surprise.

Momentarily.

While none other than Garth explicitly brandished weaponry, the good majority was at least versed in some form of magic. Not to mention, they far outweighed the women physically. Because of this, it wasn't the overwhelming victory that Shae and Rose had planned, but there was something to be said about the making the first strike. And it had been surprising, the four women jumping out at them. Certainly hadn't been without wounds.

But they were quickly thrown to the side, only one major injury at the moment from the guards side as Halbert had the misfortune of being sliced open, rather deeply, on his arm. He'd fallen back, into the now closed front doorway, gritting his teeth as he attempted to cover the wound with one hand. It was doing little though and he'd begun to curse then, both at the women and the situation in general.

As the four women lay now, thrown to the ground and two of them not even still holding their weapons, it was to stare up into eyes of unforgiving coldness. It wasn't as if any of them were unfamiliar with it. But the mood was different, the intention changed. As the men stood over them now, some with magic circles beneath their palms, they had something far worse in mind than what took place up in the penthouse.

"Hey!" At the top of the staircase, Shae called down to them as she was shoving Locke then, to go faster. Holding up the gun, from him being lower steps than her, it was easy enough to point it at his head and Locke really didn't feel like that was safe and maybe jumped the last step, just to put distance between him and the woman. "Stand the fuck down. All of you. I'll kill him. I'll-"

"Let," Wick spoke as he stood there, before the men and clinched fists, but no magic, "us get to the Master. Now! And I'll spare some of your lives."

"You're not the one in control here," Shae insisted. She could feel Taree there, behind her, but Anna hadn't come down the stairs. At all. Swallowing, Shae added, "I am."

Wick narrowed his eyes for a moment, considering maybe, but Crigin, who was at his side, found this unnecessary. Shae seemed almost timid, with the weapon, and honestly? Locke's life wasn't worth much to him either way. Raising a hand, a beam of some sort shot out from his palm, a bright white light, that was aimed right for Shae. On the stairs, she wouldn't have had much room to dodge it, least she allow the beam to strike Taree behind her, and that was with the caveat that she was even observant enough to note it as such a speed. Rather, her eyes were locked Wick's and she would have been taken completely by surprise were it not for one of Locke's own arms, shooting out with a metal plating covering it to absorb the blast.

"I fucking knew it," Crigin yelled as Locke's metal plating, destroyed momentarily, dissipated to reveal a rather massive bruise in it's place on his forearm. "The little shit's been compromised, Wick."

"Hux," Anderson called out to him in some surprise, but Locke only his opposite hand across his bruised arm, healing the abrasion and righting the broken blood vessels.

"She's right." Locke held his ground. "Stand down. Monty's dead. There's nothing left to fight over. Allow the women safe passage out of here and you'll be spared."

"Fuck you," Crigin remarked and this was echoed among some of the men, but Wick seemed concerned with something else as he stepped then, passed the four women on the ground, and instead approached the group on the stairs.

"You can leave," he said darkly as his eyes shifted from Shae's gun to the mage before him, "with the women you have here. Only. You can flee the property. They'll come after you. Rip you to shreds. Do far worse things than you ever experienced here. But if it's freedom you want, then take it. Get out of here. Now."

"No way," Locke retorted. "All of them. The Factory too. We're going to leave and-"

"What are you afraid of?" Shae spoke up as she was pointing the weapon at him then, still standing tall on the final few steps. "Your daughter?"

He shook his head a bit, Wick did, as he took another step towards them, and though Locke tensed, Shae only held the older man's gaze.

"I already took care of her," the woman assured the man. "First thing I-"

He lunged at her, Shae, but Locke jumped in the way, tackling the older guy as the pair sprawled together across the hardwood. This seemed to instigate the brawl once more as the guards started back in towards the women on the floor. Shae rushed forwards as well, around Locke and Wick, to brandish her gun and, when that did nothing, fire it off, the sound echoing in the foyer of the manor.

The bullet rippled through the air and struck Crigin, in the shoulder. Over the howls of pain, one of the guards yelled about falling back. When someone shoved around Halbert, still bleeding out on the floor, to get to the door though, they were welcomed with another complication.

It hadn't been easy for Haven, to be at the right place at the right time. Though, if it benefited her, she probably would have claimed the opposite. That her words were just so masterful, her reasoning just so foolproof, that of course she could get nearly all of the women from the factory to be there with her, in the yard.

But it hadn't been. Easy. Rather she'd dreaded the moment, right up until it happened. The sign.

First, they'd heard what sounded like blasts, short little ones, somewhere on the property, and most f the women jumped up in concern. T shushed them though while Gyu went to peek out the door, but Haven only quickly began to gather up all the articles of clothing she'd (somewhat) folded, forcing them into one of the boxes before trying to head out of the warehouse. She was meant to carry the taped up box out to where they'd pile them, around the building, so that the guards could take them out to the truck that would come by, every other day.

It wouldn't have been that big of a deal, honestly, Haven leaving. It shouldn't have been at all, really. But for some reason, Wanda rushed after her when she tried to leave, grabbing the typical blonde's shoulder to hold her up some. As Haven shook her off with a glare over said shoulder, it was only met with an equal one.

"What's your problem?" Haven questioned with a frown. "I'm just taking these boxes outside."

"Are you?" Wanda questioned with a raised eyebrow and she'd had a bad feeling about the younger woman, since she arrived. It was why she wanted her gone so badly and had planned to send her off with Alwood. She exuded a bad, off-putting energy. And now, with her being tangled up with a guard, the woman was even more on edge. And her conversations with the women slated to take her place at Alwood's hadn't gone without notice. As she stared the younger woman down then, in the doorway to The Factory, she felt as if her concerns weren't without merit. "What were those explosion?"

"How would I know?" the younger woman complained with a frown. "I-"

"Oh, shit." Bea, who'd come over with a box full of her own, wasn't commenting on the brewing fight between Wanda and Haven, but rather staring passed them. Dropping the box of clothing in her arms, she raised a hand to instead point out the door. "Look! The fuck's going on?"

Haven looked as well as Wanda took a step backwards in concern. They could see them, the women from the kitchen fleeing towards the back of the property and the woods that surrounded it. Taking in a breath, Haven only took a step back into the warehouse, allowing the door to shut and seal them off, momentarily, from the mayhem that was only just beginning.

"A revolt," Haven answered plainly, but loudly as she wished to be heard by all. As the others were beginning to rise again and Gyu and T were making their way over, the typical blonde only insisted, "Just like on Ewing's manor. And you want to escape like they were able to, then you need to listen to me. Now."

"What are you talking about?" Wanda questioned. "Revolt? You can't-"

"It's already started." And Haven held out a hand then, allowing her demonic magic to run through it, as a test, but reveling in the feeling all the same. Hopeful for a chance to live up to her uncle's Beast Arm legacy, she grinned a bit as she glanced around at the women. "Right now, Monty's being taken hostage and the guards are surrendering to our demands. All we have to do-"

"You can't," Wanda continued to insist, "do this. You know that you can't. People will get hurt. People-"

"People are already getting hurt," Haven retorted. "Or did you forget what happens to those women in the penthouse?"

"That's different," T spoke up with a heavy frown. "They're marked. We're marked. That's part of it." But then she eyed the purple magic that dripped from Haven's palm and frowned. "But you're not marked. Are you?"

It hardly sounded like a question, rather presented flatly and almost like an accusation. Frowning at it all the same, Haven held up her other arm, bearing the slave marking.

"I am," she retorted simply. "I'm marked. But I have a way out of it. For all of you. But you have to come with me, now, before the moment is lost. Every second we spend in there-"

"Fuck 'em," retorted one of the older ladies from where she sat, her chair turned away from her sewing machine now, but facing where Haven stood, just to bemoan her. "Those bitches wanna fight the Master? Let 'em. Aint' our battle. I ain't dying for them."

"No one's asking you to," Haven insisted. And it was her other hand now, with the sickening purple magic, that she held up. "I won't let any of you be harmed. I swear. I-"

"People died. At the Ewing manor." T crossed her arms, clearly uncomfortable. Nodding at Wanda, she said, "Wick told her about it. Last time Monty was here. Slaves and his men died, Ewing survived. That the kinda thing you're looking to do here?" Then she shook her head. "Ah. Guess you're not in the place then, are you? To be making promises?"

"Ewing's place was different." Haven glared then, at T, as she said, "And I fucking did all I could there. It was chaos. This isn't. This is a plan."

"With who?" another one of the ladies asked and she had all their attention now, Haven did, and this was the moment. She had to strike. She had to figure out some way to get to them. What was it before? That she'd been so confident in? That had to do with Marin?

"A guard," she admitted easily. "And one of the women in the penthouse. All you have to do is come with me. Now. To the manor. So we can help them contain the guards. That's all you have to do. That's it. And you get your freedom back."

There was a silence among them then, with some women looking to Haven, but most looking to Wanda, T, or Gyu. And as Wanda shook her head, T only sighed some before opening her mouth to no doubt discourage the action. The other women seemed to sense this and they even turned, some of them, back to their work, to wait out what in their mind was an inevitable victory on the side of the Master.

But Haven wasn't finished.

She never was. Not until she'd gotten what she wanted.

"I almost died. Once. A year ago. Two, almost, now, I guess." Her magic died down as her arms dropped and she was just glancing about then, feeling small among the older women, out numbered, like when she was a kid plotting her way to the top, back in the guildhall. "Far from home. Too far. And...my family didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. That I was gone. Almost. And they were fucking miserable, for months, because they'd heard that I'd gotten beaten, out there somewhere, that I died alone and that I was coming back to them. I… Even though they know that I'm safe now, that I'm back now, I just… You shouldn't die here. Any of you. If you have homes to go back to, or even just somebody, you should always try to get back there. Before… You'll never forgive yourself if you don't."

If this felt moving, in any way, it was dashed by Wanda, quite clearly, saying, "If you want to leave, you're welcome. But the rest of us-"

"I'll go with you." Bea kicked the box in front of her out of the way and took another step towards Haven. "Kid. Got nothing else to lose."

And another one of the boxers, the one that ate lunch beside Haven and Bea, let out a loud groan before heading over as well.

"I'm not going to let you get your ass killed," the woman chided Bea simply as the woman in question patted at her eye patch with a bit of a grin, "with out me."

"Day when you were running the tunnels, wasn't it?" Bea remarked almost cheerfully. "That I got it plucked? If you were there-"

"If I were there," the woman agreed, "they'dda been pluckin' mine too."

Haven hadn't realized how tense she'd gotten until that exact moment, allowing herself a grin as well when, slowly, more and more women rose to their feet, and Wanda tried to remind them, tried to insist to them, that it was a waste, a death march, that they were being led from the frying pan and into the fire, but her words didn't matter anymore.

"People," she continued to cry to deaf ears, "could die."

A gunshot rang out then, muffled and distanced, coming from the manor. Though it was technically the second of the day, they had no way of knowing exactly what was taking place and though there was some hesitance, the motion of all the women moving forwards kept them all moving. Haven ran ahead, a mix of excitement and concern, allowing her arm to fully transform to it's demonic takeover.

The other two were waiting for them, having seen the sign Haven had mentioned, of the kitchen staff fleeing from the windows of the bunkhouse. They made a sizable, if unarmed, force. Just as they were rounding the front of the manor, the doors began to open and the commotion inside threatened to spill out. That is, until they took note not only of the crowd awaiting them there, but also the woman with the scaled, white arm with the claws outstretched for them.

They had no idea, the guards didn't, just what the women outside might be carrying, be it equal or more powerful weapons than the cutlery that the penthouse ones had boasted. Though it was nothing, honestly, they feared the unknown more and fell back. Unfortunately for them, Shae had had a chance to advance then, gun still raised, while the other women had reclaimed their knives.

And it should have ended there.

Locke had Wick pinned to the ground and they could have gotten them surrendered, move to a locked room, and escaped.

It was the intention.

At least for some of them.

The guards fell to the ground when Haven approached them with her demonic arm, ordering this. Maybe she was eating it up too much, in that moment, the absolute power she felt. She'd been a freak, it seemed like, when she transformed on Ewing's manor, but here then men groveled in fear and the women stood around her in admonishment, backing her up. She was moments away from liberating her second manor, gaining access to the tunnels, and shoving it all in stupid Astra's face.

Seeing them though, fall to their knees, for as enjoyable as it was to Haven, it only seemed to spur something inside the penthouse women. The faces of the guards were little more than people in the background, no different than the hired help, to The Factory women, but the penthouse…

Rose made the first lung and drove her knife as rigidly through the chest of the guard before her as she could. As he tried to shove her off, Shae lowered her gun, calling out for her to stop, but the moment was lost to them. The other three women with her, jumped forwards to do the same, slashing and hacking now with more confidence than they had, when they were thrown off before. And with the threat of the demon behind them, the guards cared less about attack back, and more about escaping all together. No longer did they fear what had happened to their master and instead were clawing their way away, to escape the same fate.

A few escaped, running off through the manor, and the women gave chase. Not only the four penthouse women from the floor, but Taree and even some of the older women gave chase, right up the stairs, to hunt them down.

Locke, during this all, wasn't so much struggling with Wick, as much as he was with himself. He had the older man subdued, but as he grit his teeth, he had to watch the other guards slaughtered. Wick called for them to stop, that they surrendered, but the time had passed for that, and as the women ran after those fleeing, he only slowly released Wick and got to his own feet.

Panting, Wick shoved up slowly. The younger man had wrenched the older's arm rather roughly and fucked up his shoulder, but this hardly felt like anything compared to the carnage that lay before him. The older woman didn't allow his eyes to grace the bodies of his fallen, however, and only raised them to glare at the older women, who now crowded the entrance way, wincing, some.

"Where," the man commanded in his heaviest tone, "is Wanda?"

But much like the woman in question, his words didn't mean much any longer.

Locke, after some consideration, moved forwards then, magic circle appearing beneath his palms as he headed to the first of the guards that was still sputtering, to seal his wounds. He went simply by Rote, his family name, he offered simply, when they first met, and they didn't know one another well, if at all, but to just standby while he bled out-

"Fuck you think you're doin'? Huh?" questioned one of the older women as it was them then, that took steps forwards, some with arms crossed over their chest, none concerned with the blood that was beginning to pool across the hardwood. They stood in it even, a barrier between Locke and the men losing it.

"I'm on your side," he insisted simply. "But we can't just let them-"

"It's not your fight. Locke."

Haven had stood silently by for once, as the women picked off the remaining guards, watching, reserved. She might have been able to put a stop to it, in fact, with her demon arm, she knew she could have, as the scene played out over the span of a minute or two, but she only watched. Observed.

Like she was learning to do.

"Haven," he whispered as she step forwards, the women allowing then, marring her shoes with blood. "I'm a medic. I-"

"This is part of it," she insisted to the man, and the demon arm, even in such a short time span, was eating at her magic. She needed things to end. Soon. "You did your part. It's all you can do."

He turned from her, Locke did, from the men sobbing as they bled out. Halbert was back there. Crigin. Another guy that had shared some of his beers with him, when Locke wouldn't come out with them, into town. He brought them back, for them to share in their room. Anderson had been one of the ones to escape, but as they heard different meant crying out, upstairs, cornered with their previous victims, he knew he'd be among them.

"Where are the tunnels?" Locke asked then. His mind was filled with other things, but his words were in hopes of changing that. Focusing in on something else. "Wick. Where are the tunnels?"

He was in his own head space as well now, watching his world crumble, no doubt still considering a way out. at his name, he merely shook his head.

"Fuck you. Hux. You little shit." Rolling his sore shoulder, Wick said, "You let them fucking turn you? These damn women? You fucking moron."

"You're in charge, right?" Haven walked around her boyfriend then, allowing her transformation to fade as she approached Wick instead. The blonde stood before him now, feeling far better in this form than any other, no demon arm, a bit of lost height, but her. "Then you must know the magic, huh? That gets the fucking mark on us? Take mine off."

"Get the fuck away from me," Wick responded darkly as she approached. Glancing over her takeover, he remarked, "Abomination."

"Remove my mark." And Haven's tone wasn't so conversational then. "Now."

Shae had watched as well, as the women attacked the guards. Even started to give chase when they ran after the others. But something held her up. Perhaps what Haven had said to Locke. It wasn't their fight. This part. She didn't feel as any miscarriage of justice had occurred and though the scent was heavy with salt and iron, a metallic mixture that was almost palpable as the last of the men was begging to the darkness for forgiveness.

Turning towards then, she raised her gun was last time.

"Do it," she ordered the man simply. "Remove her mark." Then, swallowing, Shae added, "Then we'll let you go. Like you were going to us. Only her mark. And then you can go. Take your daughter and go."

"My daughter?" He raised his head then as well as his eyebrows, questioning and not believing, but Shae merely nodded honestly.

This seemed to do the trick as he moved to Haven then, holding out a hand over her out stretched arm as a light blue magic circle appeared. Slowly, the marking dissipated and there were murmurs from the women amassed over this, but Haven only looked over her arm, taking a second out to run electricity through it once more.

Haven smiled, almost looking up to thank the man. As she caught herself though, Wick merely looked to Shae.

"My daughter?" he insisted and she relented some with a nod.

"Down the hall," she assured him. "In the closet with all the cleaning supplies. She's sedated, but fine."

He turned his back on Shae, to head that way, but she merely raised the gun and fired it, once, striking him in the back, but as he fell, she advanced to do so one last time, in the back of his skull.

The sound was just as painful as before and Locke, instinctively, had brought his hands up to his ears. Quickly though, he ran some sort of magic through his palms before reaching out for his girlfriend, moving to place his healing palms over hers as well.

"Shae, what the fuck?" Haven complained, but she merely shrugged as she looked to them.

"All the others are dead," she replied simply, but she was shaking a bit, nervous, as her adrenaline slowly fled. "That saw what happened. We couldn't leave him alive. To identify Locke."

"Identify me for what?" he complained.

"We've all just committed crimes against the crown of Bosco," Shae told him as, slowly, she backed away from Wick's still twitching body. "We executed one of the families. We're just slaves, but if he could somehow trace you back to something-"

"Where's Alwood?" Haven asked, looking up at Locke with big eyes. "And that woman you wanna fuck?"

"H-Haven-"

"She knows your name, idiot. Your real name." She made a face as he dropped his hands from her ears. "Did she see you do anything? Or-"

"They fled. I think." Locke shook his head. "I haven't seen either of them."

"Good," Shae remarked. "Then that leaves-"

"Garth. He's still locked away."

This came from Rose who walked down the staircase then the rest of the women in tow. Many of them were much like Shae, slowly reliving their actions, for better or worse. Anna was with them, once more, but physically recoiled at what awaited them in the foyer.

"He doesn't know about you. Locke." Shae, slowly, bent down to set the man in questions gun onto the floor. "If we can get out of here, to the tunnels, and you stay behind-"

"Bea knows where the tunnels are," Haven assured the other woman before turning to look at the crowd of them, the older women, behind them. "Don't you, Bea?"

There was a thumbs up from the woman, somewhere gathered in with the others, as well as a rumble of agreement between them that yes, most of them also knew how to access them.

"But," one of the older women spoke up, "they were sealed up. Concrete. Capital's orders."

"Won't make much difference," Haven assured them as she patted at her boyfriend's arm then. "Locke's steel can break through anything."

"We have to hurry," Shae insisted. "I'm sure Alwood rode into town, to alert them of what was going on. They'll be forming a mob, probably, and maybe even alert the closest sector of royal guards. We can't be here when they arrive."

"Then let's go," Haven decided. It wasn't like it was an unpopular decision, anyways, not only escaping the bodies that littered the ground, but also doing so in the very literal sense. "All of us. Let's-"

Shae claimed, though, that there was one last thing they needed to do. And, as she led Locke to where Nessa was still crumbled and unconscious, he only sighed some as he lifted the young teen into his arms.

"Well," he decided as he carefully stepped around Wick's body, as well as the many others around, "I guess it might be a good thing she's not awake."

Outside, Shae spotted her for the first time. Lize. She'd hung back, behind the older women, scratching at her arm and trying hard to ignore the gnawing in her gut and brain, the pangs equal for somewhere to sleep as they were one of those little pills Monty supplied them all with.

Shae couldn't help it though when, in the light of day, so close to freedom, she saw the other woman. She'd been the closest thing she'd had to a friend for a few harrowing days there and she hugged her, tightly, shocking both herself and Lize.

"I'm so glad," she insisted, blushing a bit as she took a step back, "that you're okay."

But she wasn't yet, and it was obvious. All the other penthouse women, still stomaching what they'd done, were faced with her as a reminder of the other hardship that was still to come for them as well.

Gyu and T were in the back of the group, Haven spotted them, but Wanda was missing and she thought she'd have to go force the woman to leave her damn factory behind...or face the consequences.

However, when they passed it she was standing in the doorway, watching with a strange look on her face. Not one of the bubbling joy and perhaps disbelief that was spread over the others. Something else.

Slowly, she did move to join the procession as they walked away from the manor, led by Bea and a some of the older women, to the shed that Haven and Locke had spent the past few weeks not so secretly conversing.

"Pull up the floor board," Bea assured them, "and beneath it will be match that's been smelted shut. Not sure about going down there, but-"

"It's the only way," Haven assured her. "Locke-"

"Hold on," he called from where he stood, further back. Backing away a bit, he moved to lay the girl in his arms on the ground, taking care. "I just have to-"

"She okay?"

Wanda was at his side then, having rushed the second she had a glimpse of the teen, in the former guard's arms, and dropped to her knees before where she laid, moving to cradle her head.

There were tears in her eyes, but not the good kind as she pulled the teen closer, whispering something softly. While Locke rubbed at his neck awkwardly, Shae only looked away, as did most of the older women in the group.

"She'll be alright," Locke offered as he stepped back then, to go rush towards the front of the line and pry up some floor boards. "Just took a stronger affect on her, the potion did, being so tiny and all."

The man, with the help of his girlfriend and a few of the women, tossed some things out of the shed before pulling up the floor boards to see what he was working with. There was a round hatch, almost like a port hole, that gave entrance into the earth, but was smelted shut currently.

"Be easier with Navi," he offered weakly to Haven as used his father's gifted magic to turn his arm to an iron blade and begin slicing into the smelted steal plating that covered the hatch. Still, as this brought him some pain, he only gritted his teeth as he added, "Maybe."

Eventually, he was able to pry the hatch up and then it was a made rush to get all the women to climb down the short ladder that adhered to the side of wall. It was dark and there wasn't much anyone could do for that (though, Locke muttered again, it'd be much easier were their favorite Dragneel around), except maybe Haven once she got down there.

She mentioned this, too, to Locke as she stood to the side with him, watching the women one by one disappear into the hole.

"Navi," she replied simply, "would never have come here."

"Yeah?" Locke shook his head some, still knowing the nightmare that was awaiting him back inside. "Maybe that's a good thing."

Haven knew her boyfriend was upset, but there wasn't much she could do for him in that short time frame. And, after helping the women work getting the incapacitated Nessa down the ladder, it was only her remaining topside.

"You don't know how long you're going to be down there," he told her in parting. "Or how vast and confusing the system is. And you can't even come back up this way. So...mark it down, you know? And-"

"Not the first time I've been lost in some tunnels, Locke," Haven retorted with a bit of a grin. "And hey, you're going to have to play hurt, right? When Alwood and them get back? One of the only two lone survivors?"

She was moving then, to climb down the ladder and he only stood before her, shrugging some.

"What about it?"

"Want me to knock you out? With my lightning punch?" For some reason, she almost seemed a bit excited at the idea. "To play it up?"

"No, Have. I think that's a really shit idea, actually." Still, he came forwards at first, Haven thought, to give her a proper kiss goodbye, but then his hand went to one of his pockets, pulling something from them. "Take this though. In case I have trouble getting across the boarder."

She made a face when he presented her with her necklace, snatch it to shove in her own pocket before, with a sigh, starting down the ladder.

"Keep that on you, do you?" Haven tried to sound above it, but he could hear it in her voice. What was usually in his own. Whenever they were parting. "Loser."

"Stay safe." He leaned over the hole, watching her disappear into the darkness below. As he slowly began to drop the hatch, aware that he needed to cover it once more, with the floor boards and objects, as to hide the women's true departure, he added, "I'll see you on the other side."


	9. A Call to Arms: VI

The night was cool and Haven actually shivered some when she awoke to a bit of drizzling rain drifting through the rafters of the old barn. There had been a few stray clouds in the sky that night when she climbed up to the loft, alone, but she hadn't considered any rain.

If Locke were there, she'd blame him for not patching the huge hole in the roof.

But he wasn't there. And it had been her that had been back at base for nearly a week now with ample opportunity to gather some help and fix it.

So she decided, when faced with blaming herself, to blame no one.

Even though she was tired and the hour was late, it felt impossible to go back asleep there, alone, and Haven only groaned some as she shoved up and climbed back down from the loft, heading back out of the barn.

The land was speckled now with tents of all sizes. Though the moon was absent that night, even now with slight cloud coverage, fluttering fireflies

The journey to get back to base hadn't been exactly ideal.

Down in the tunnels, Haven was the only source of light they had. She lit up her arm with crackling electricity, something that drew the oohs and awes of some, but mostly made the others give weary looks about. The tunnels were constructed of decaying brick and rock, dank and odorous, with previously undisturbed vermin now scuttling away, further into the darkness.

It made a pit form in Haven's stomach, when she considered how closely it reminded her of Ewing's basement dungeon. She knew they needed to leave as quickly as possible.

They were all packed in there, spreading out across the depths of the current tunnel, concern etched in all their gazes. But Haven only pushed through them all (and easy feat as most jumped back, fearful of her seemingly contained lightning) until she arrived at the most familiar face she knew among the enslaved.

Bea, in return, hardly knew the one staring back at her.

"You," Haven questioned with a raised eyebrow, "know the tunnels, right?"

"Well," the other woman began, finger slipping beneath her eye patch with a deep breath, "I used to run the paths down here. A lot of us did. But it's a rather big-"

"There are multiple tunnels." Someone else spoke up then and, when Haven turned towards the direction of their voice, she find Gyu wincing some under the harsh light.

"There are many twists and turns," the woman kept up. "Very vast. It's not an easy place to navigate. And it's been so many years-"

"All we need," Haven insisted, "is to make it to the ocean. Or somewhere near to it. The eastern side. Locke's going to contact our people as soon as he can and have a ship waiting for us. We just have to get there."

It sounded like a sound enough plan. The line of delivery had, back in the day, lead to the ocean. But, as she'd been warned, Haven was welcomed to a complex system of tunnels that weren't easily remembered.

The older women argued over directions, most of them, all at once, and though Gyu and T tried a few times to assert their own knowledge, and maybe flex some of their former authority, this was rebuked frequently. Wanda, for her part, hung back in the ground, where Shae and one of the older women helped her carry her daughter along with them.

Haven was in control now.

But like usual, this was riddled with far less perks than she'd have liked.

The tunnels were hot, rank, and infested with all sorts of undesirable creatures. Part of Haven feared that they might stumble upon some sort of mutated humans living down there, like in some of those comics that Ravan used to read when they were kids (or still, honestly, she was pretty sure), but a larger, more sensible part of her was realizing just how bad things could get and how quickly.

There were too many of them, some teetering on what she'd already seen to be an uncomfortable withdrawal period, and all harboring different levels of physical decline. They were fed well, slept little, and just weren't meant for making the journey that was required of them.

But they had no food, no water, and if they didn't keep on, they'd die there.

In the tunnels.

Packed in like sardines, lost.

Somehow worse, maybe, than they'd been back on the Harval property.

Haven marked the ends of walls as they went along, scorching them a bit with her lightning, as she'd learned years prior. The other women had fallen into something of a disagreement with one another, arguing over direction and annoyed when they had to turn back around, and Haven was thankful that none seemed to note the dimming of her electricity as it slowly lost some of its brilliance.

Her magic was draining and the static down in the depths wasn't enough.

She feared they'd all be lost in the darkness soon enough.

Then the girl woke up.

The teen.

In a foggy state at first, but it quickly escalated to panic. Haven didn't really know much about her, if anything, but was very aware that her freaking out would soon spread and she was thankful when one of the penthouse women solved the problem.

"You didn't," Wanda hissed at her quite angrily when Rose tossed one of Locke's potions in the teen's face once more, "have to do that."

"Yeah," Rose retorted with a bit of a glare, "I did."

"Couldn't have been good for her though," Shae did mutter though, honestly, she was thankful for the action as well.

The others, however, weren't so easy to subdue.

Some wanted to stay behind, to await them to find the proper path, but the tunnel system was so extensive that, even with her marking it out a path, she feared losing somebody or what might be awaiting them in the darkness.

It all came to an end in what felt like elation, at least momentarily, as they could see light at the end of a tunnel and Haven dropped her arm, releasing her magic as she rushed forward to investigate for herself, first.

As the only unmarked.

Plus, she just always had to be first.

Always.

It gave the appearance of a run off pipe, hidden among a few others that stuck out of a cliff side, water trickling slowly from the others. Haven imagined in the rainier months, it poured. But for now, she found herself elevated above a body of water, the never-ending blue hued waves, she knew, leading across the way to Fiore.

Shae, the only other one not completely depleted, rushed after her, skidding to a stop right before the edge. As she stared down at the rather sizable drop, the woman took in a gulp and stepped backwards.

"Long fall," Shae remarked softly, but Haven's eyes were elsewhere; on the sky.

"Do you think that Locke has done it yet?" she questioned. "How long were we down there? Felt like hours."

"Sun's setting," Shae pointed out. "So most of the day, I'd say. So yeah. I'd bank on it."

Nodding some, Haven looked back at the women that were gathering about them then, the fresh air all hitting them at different intervals. Some were crying, they were so close to freedom, but of course, there was still a bit of a blockade.

"If Luka's ship is somewhere out here," Haven remarked as her eyes still just scanned the skies rather than the waters, "then we need something to signal where we are. Someway for her to know where to pick us up at."

"What are you thinking?" Shae questioned with a glance.

"I know a spell. A trick. My father's the master of it, but… I can use lightning to travel about. It drains my magical energy very quickly though." Haven shook her arm a bit as her gaze fell once more. Looking to Shae, she remarked softly, "If I could find Luka's ship-"

"What happens when you lose your magic?" Shae asked with a glance at the other woman. "Like...if you're in the middle of the ocean?"

Shrugging a bit, the blonde replied, "I guess it'll be a good thing then, that I know how to swim."

But Shae only shook her head, insisting, "There needs to be another way. You don't even know how far off from us Luka might be. What direction. What if you get turned around? And then your magic dies out and what? You fall into the ocean and drown? No, Haven, you should just- Damn it!"

It shocked the woman, as well as those who had been coming to peer around them, when Haven suddenly seemed to dissipate into a hot flash of lightning, scorching the spot where she'd been standing before.

Shae glared after her, but there was nothing that could be done. The sky was just beginning to darken and the bright zag of light was barely visible as it darted cross the sky, leaving them all behind.

She knew that the other woman was right. That if she ran out of magic, that if Locke hadn't alerted Luka yet, if she just couldn't fucking find the ship, then she'd find herself crashing down into the waves below and, regardless of her aptitude in swimming, eventually succumbing to them.

But she couldn't think about that.

Haven rarely thought about such things.

Defeat and the like.

The second she'd seen the sky above and ocean below, she knew that there was only one way that she'd be able to track down Luka.

Exhilarated from the sheer joy of getting to use her magic so freely once more, Haven forced herself to scan the area for any nearby boat. She'd spent enough time on Lambent Waves that she felt as if she could recognize it a mile off.

She was all, but drained by the time she found it, fall straight of the sky and crashing ungracefully into the hard wooden deck. The men who were milling about, doing whatever the fuck you did on a ship (Haven still had no real clue), were taken aback by her sudden appearance and one even screamed in something close to terror.

But high above them, in the crow's nest, the woman herself was perched, a dated, but classic telescope in one hand. Grinning down from her tiny, circular structure, she called down to Haven, where the blonde, all but drained from loss of magic, struggled to do much other than sit on her knees.

"Was lookin' for ya," Luka called down. "Heard you got a shipment for me, do ya?"

She raised a shaking hand, Haven did, pointing tentatively as she called out in the loudest voice she could manage, "That way. Three pipes. Middle one. No water."

The job was hardly complete from there, even when Luka began barking orders to her men, but Haven only crawled away, forcing herself up to go below deck, where she huddled against the first wall she could find and took to glancing over her necklace, blinking sleepily down at the blue gemstone.

It was quite the hassle, Haven was told later, getting the women down and into the boat. Involving a rope latter and some fear over being discovered and caught. But she only watched through bleary eyes as parade of women joined her below deck, all crammed together down there.

Maybe it was a bad assumption, but she'd thought that Shae would come join her. Sit beside her. When she came down. But she was speaking softly as they found a place to rest, to that Lize woman she'd seemed to know, and maybe it was for the best.

"Don't fall asleep now, kid." Bea, of course, found her place beside the blonde, scratching beneath her eye patch as she settled in for the boat ride. "You can't sleep durin', 'em, you know? Dreams? If you fall asleep durin' one, you wake up. I don't wanna wake up from this. I can't."

Haven could though. She slept fitfully, the worst time being jarred awake when the young teen awoke again, still with very little understanding and, even after being given a bit, sobbing alone while refusing to allow any of them near her.

The ride back to Fiore felt like it took forever.

Arriving at the dock, they found Richard and Xay awaiting them, the early morning sun glittering on the waters. All the women, even the older ones, had rushed up above deck to stare out in amazement. There was a vibe running through them, a lot having been under for year and years, that was undeniable.

This was it.

It was really happening.

But the young teen stayed down, below deck, where she'd huddled into a corner and seemed to be trying to pretend they'd all vanish, if she wished hard enough.

Wanda stood crouched before, her speaking softly and trying to insist that she would be okay, if she just went with her, while T and Gyu stood further back, silently, but concerned.

Shae was still down there, below deck. She'd been assisting the penthouse women, who were suffering without whatever it was that Monty usually fed them, but as she watched Lize, the last one, slowly climb up out of the bellows of the ship, she didn't follow. Instead, finally, she came to stand beside Haven, where the blonde was observing the drama before them.

"Maybe we shouldn't have taken her," Haven remarked, still not fully versed, but feeling as if that didn't matter much. If at all. Ever. In any situation. Her opinion still reigned supreme. "She's not one of us; she's not marked."

But Shae only shook her head before insist, "Let me talk to her."

But she wasn't speaking to Haven as she said this, instead walking towards where the teen had hidden herself away, her words directed at the three women, once so powerful, and now looking equally as lost.

Wanda looked up at her with a bit of a frown as she insisted, "I really don't think-"

"We know one another," Shae insisted, continuing to come closer. Pushing passed Gyu and T, she came to stand before the teen for a moment before crouching down before her as well. "Don't we? Nessa?"

She finally did lift her head, just a bit, but only to insist to Shae, "I don't want to be here. Take me back. I don't belong here."

"You don't belong there," Shae assured her. When the girl shook her head though, she insisted herself as she said, "There's nothing to go back to. There. At all. The manor's gone. We rebelled and won."

"My father-"

"There's nothing," Shae insisted to her, "to go back to. To go back for. Bosco's not going to be the same place it was, in the coming months and years. You're lucky to get out now."

"But my father-"

"Wick...he was..."

"He's dead."

This didn't come from Shae and the woman even cringed a bit, at the words. Rather, they fell from Haven's mouth as she didn't approach, but stood further back, near the stairs, a hard look in her eyes.

"No," the girl whispered. "That's not true! He-"

"I killed him."

"Haven," Shae whispered darkly, but the blonde merely shrugged.

"I did it," she insisted, getting the glares now of Wanda as well, but she spoke coldly and with little concern or fear. "I killed Wick for the same reason all the other men were killed. You're better off here than you would be there."

She began crying again, Nessa did, but as Shae stood, Wanda fell more fully to her knees and the girl allowed it when she wrapped her in her arms, hugging her tightly.

Shae set off after Haven, who was turning to walk up the ladder. It was only once they were both up the ladder though that, after catching the blonde's arm, she insisted with a hiss, "What is your problem?"

"It was all going to come out," Haven retorted simply as she jerked away from the other woman. "One way or another. And now, when they tell her that someone shot her father, she'll associate it with me. She'll hate me. You're welcome. You could try thanking me."

But Shae only let out a short huff of breath and it was hard for the two of them to be so angry, when there was such joy up there. They separated, Shae going off to stand with Lize and the other penthouse women and Haven finding Bea easily.

Xay was very excited to see the two women. He wanted to know everything, right there on the dock, but Haven only muttered something and Shae was going to stick around, to help herd the women, but now that she was back where she belonged, in Fiore, Haven found she just wanted to get back to base.

Where, after so long, it was finally her turn.

She'd never done it before.

Waited on Locke's return.

There were times, maybe, when they first started dating, when he would go on a job without her and she'd arrive back from her own first, but that hardly counted. Since she'd run off after the stolen S-Class job, back when they were teens, it had always been Locke waiting around for her. Looking for her. Worried about her.

And she was worried about him.

She didn't know what would happen, with only him and one other guard upstairs left alive. Who would take the blame. She hated the idea of him having to figure that out all alone. If he ran into trouble, it would take a bit, for it to make it back to her, and she never wanted Locke to go through anything like what she had in the country.

Ever.

Plus…

A lot had just gone on. And she wanted him there, not necessarily as her boyfriend, but more of her only real friend, to talk about it with.

She did get out all that she knew though, that first night back, to the stoic Astra. She was smoking on the front porch when Haven arrived, watching some of the former silent from the Ewing manor serve themselves dinner out in the yard. There was a big pot of something cooking and the smell made Haven's knees weak, as it had been a good few since she'd had a real meal, but she only continued on to the porch.

"Back so soon?" Astra asked as she plucked the smoke from her mouth and instead only stared blankly up at the Haven. "Need your mark removed?"

"Already got it taken care of," she said with a bit of a shrug. "But I figured you'd wanna hear about how it all went. From my perspective. Shae and Locke probably have another, but-"

"There's already reports coming in. Spreading across Bosco. In the single day it's been." Astra got to her feet then, nodding towards the house. "One of my contacts in the country just rang my lacrima. You slaughtered a manor, killing guards and the head of the house. What we did at Ewing's place?" She snorted as they made it into the tiny structure then, alone. "Hardly means anything. But this? This is a wakeup call. This is fear. Running through all of the minor houses in the land. This is the marked hearing the news, seeing what can be done, and wanting on bated breaths for someone on their manor, in their household, to lead the charge. And few more? Then they're doing it all on their own. And then..."

"How does Locke get out? Of the country?" Haven asked as they came, as they seemed to frequently do, stand before the kitchen table. "Now?"

"Locke didn't contact me," Astra told her with a bit of a shrug. "He contacted Luka, directly, as he was instructed to do. I have no idea what he does now. Is there some concern for him not being able to get his own, legal, way out?"

"I don't think so. No." Haven shook her head. "Anyone who could implicate him is dead."

"Then let him work it out on his own. He's a big boy, Haven."

Haven looked off then as she questioned, "What happened here? While we were gone?"

"One or two left," Astra offered with a shrug. "But most have hung on. And the stragglers, health wise, have all improved. Xavier trains them in the morning, Richard goofs off with them in the evenings. Nothing of interest."

Haven only sighed some as she offered, "I don't know if a lot of the women we brought back will stay. Or if we'd want them to. They're all kinda, well...older and-"

"We weren't after bodies. This time." Astra brought her smoke back up to her lips as she simply reminded, "We wanted the tunnels. And now, we have them."

This would be the focus on the next few days. Luka came in, like the last time, to discuss the tunnel issue, and the women that stuck around were welcomed to base camp. It was a strange few days for everyone, but Haven mostly found herself either wrestling with Xay or hanging around the barn, feeling a bit forlorn.

She thought she'd missed Locke, that week before she was able to join him in Bosco, but this was different. This was stronger.

And that night, as she climbed down in the middle of it, the feeling had reached its peak.

She thought that she would find Xay on guard duty. That was her hope. The past few nights, when she couldn't sleep, she'd followed him around and messed with the younger guy a bit. He liked her ribbing and joking and she liked the feeling of having a little brother again, not unlike the position her younger cousin Ajax had always filled.

But he wasn't the one that she found hanging around the perimeter that night. Rather, it seemed to be Richard and one of the men freed from Ewings manor. They acknowledged her with a nod as, once realizing it was just the two of them, she continued on into the forest surrounding.

It had been a few days, nearly a week, without any confirmation from Locke, and Haven didn't know if it was this hard for him, usually, but it was really starting to get to her. Part of her wanted to go back into the country and seek him out, but a bigger part was reverent of the fact that he was probably dealing with a lot of fallout. He was one of the only two survivors of a massacre and, even if no one traced it back to him in any way, he still needed to give his side of the story and tie up any loose ends.

Plus…

Well, maybe part of her was nervous about that woman too. The assistant. She imagined that Alwood probably was leading the charge into what took place at the Harval manor, which meant she'd be around and she did think, maybe, that Locke wasn't just being his usual self. The woman was probably interested in him in some capacity.

Haven had spent the majority of their back and forth relationship either blatantly informing him of the fact she was seeing other people or remarking that she intended to continue to, with the implication that she expected the same from him. They'd be together when they were together, but when they weren't…

But everything changed, when she was revived. She wanted to say that they were without a doubt on the same page, regardless of her relentless teasing hinting at otherwise, but…

It had never bothered her so much. The idea of Locke being with someone else. She knew he was, when she'd been away for those three years, and that was fine, that was whatever, but she'd seen the way he reacted, when she called him out in the shed those few times.

So maybe she was learning about a lot of Locke's feelings, all those years, while she'd been running way from her own. He'd taken their relationship very seriously and had always tried to keep a place for her in his life, in his mind, and now she was stuck on the return end of it.

And it was even an extremely mild form of it.

It scared her some, when she saw someone else sitting out by the river that evening. She almost turned around, fearful of it not being someone from base camp and rather a random hiker or something, but then the clouds shifted away from the moon just enough to provide some light and she saw it was merely Shae.

They'd been avoiding one another since their time on the ship. Shae had taken over looking after the few penthouse women who stuck around, which for the time being seemed to only be Rose, Lize, and the loud woman from Seven who kept saying she'd take off, soon, but had yet to do so. The others took what money Astra offered survivors and either traveled back home or to Richard's guild, where his people seemed to be working at contacting next of kin for any who wanted it.

A lot of the older women took up that offer as well.

Haven wasn't even sure if it could even be called avoidance, what she and Shae were doing. It wasn't as if they were friends or anything. The other woman spent a lot of time, she knew, with Locke, and that was fine, but that hardly meant they were anything to one another. Locke made lots of friends that wanted nothing to due with Haven. She was used to that occurrence.

But…

She'd felt like they'd connected, maybe, those few weeks there, down in the pond each night, shivering and talking around topics. It was difficult for Haven to make friends in general, but women especially. And she'd have liked it, maybe, if they could be at least somewhat friendly with one another, if only for the time they were forced together.

She was going to turn away. Walk off back into the forest, maybe even go back to bed. But Shae noted her presence, lifting her head from where it'd been rested on her knees, and turned to stare at her. Their eyes met and Haven, slowly, shuffled forwards.

"Can you not turn it off?"

Frowning, Haven asked, "Turned what off?"

Shae shrugged though, as her gaze went back to the water. "Your boyfriend told me, when you first got here, that the reason you feel so...weird, that it feels weird to be around you, is because you...suck all the static out of the air or some shit. Can you not?"

"He called me weird?" Haven complained as she was standing now, over the other woman. "His fucking dad eats literal metal. Constantly. But I'm weird?"

She narrowed her eyes up at the woman, Shae did, before saying, "Are all of you crazy? There? In your fairy place?"

"Fairy Tail." Haven, slowly, moved to take a seat beside the woman, facing the river. "And yeah, I guess we are."

"What are you even doing out here?" Shae asked. "If you were coming to bathe-"

"I was looking for Xay," Haven cut her off. "He usually is doing patrol, but it was Richard and I really didn't want-"

"To talk to him?" Shae snorted. "Yeah, I get that."

Haven shook her head some as she whispered, "I just wish he knew something about Locke. He took him there. So you'd think he'd have some idea what's going on. But-"

"You know when you were gone, that first time," the other woman offered, "he sat out here all the time too."

"Out here?"

"By the river. When he wasn't sitting on the porch, waiting for you to appear."

Swallowing, Haven said, "He's obsessive like that."

Shae gave this to her without a fight and they fell into a weird silence where they could hear some crickets chirping softly around them, each of their eyes following a different firefly as they fluttered about, and it wasn't nearly as uneasy as it should have been.

Eventually, the blonde did venture, "How do you do that? Back at the manor? Just...take the gun and...shoot him? I mean, I know he was probably an ass and definitely deserved it, but-"

"The same way that you just claimed you did it," Shae replied after a moments thought. "You thought that it had to be done, so you did it."

"That's different."

"Is it?" She shrugged. "It's different for you and Locke, I guess, growing up in a guild. It sounds very violent. But that's a line you can't cross. Or haven't before. I didn't grow up like that. This is all new to me. The things I've seen in Bosco… I can't just rectify them or ignore them. And I can't let this all fall through. My mother's lost somewhere in that country, being treated the same way that we were… I'd kill them all, if I had to, to get her back. What was his life to me? What's it to you?"

Haven found that it was sticking with her, the way she thought about her words before letting them loose, and she didn't like the images that she conjured up, when she thought of that specific afternoon.

"I don't feel bad for him. Or think you did the wrong thing. If that's what you mean." Haven looked to the ground then, toying a bit with some grass that was growing nearby. "It's just… We were taught that everyone's savable. Even people that you don't think are. Everyone can be a better person eventually. And you have to strive for that eventuality."

"Do you think that he's worth saving? That man you're afraid of? Ewing?"

"I'm not afraid of him."

"Is worth saving?" Shae insisted. "If given a hundred chances, would he do the right thing on even one?"

Haven looked up to the moon, watching as it disappeared behind a cloud once more, before softly saying, "I don't know. But...I wouldn't even give him the chance."

"They're fucking monsters," the other woman said simply, decisively. "You can give people second chances. You can give them third chances. Four. But monsters don't change. They can't."

Her gaze fell then, Haven's did, to glance at Shae, but the woman wasn't looking back at her and, with a sigh, the blonde seemed to uncharacteristically relent. Softly, she said, "I'm just worried about Locke."

And Shae didn't smile, still uncomfortable with the energy Haven presented, but did remark back, "You are obsessive like that."

It shouldn't have felt that good.

But it did.

Two days would pass and Haven found it difficult to even tussle around with Xay. Instead, she did try it a few times. What Shae said Locke did. Just sit around. On the porch. Watching the treeline.

It was fucking miserable.

And even worse than his time spent waiting on her, given there were so many people about. Too many people.

She almost wanted to be the one still trekking around Bosco, if only to get away from all the other people.

Locke was dumb though. He always had been. Because he'd feel it, if he tried hard enough, when she was near. Or at least she assumed he could, but she could in the reverse. Sense his magic as it approached. His energy was that ingrained into her being.

She was actually waiting in line for lunch one day when she felt it. Out of nowhere. It crept up on her all of a sudden, the feeling, and she didn't, like, run to him or anything. It wasn't that drastic. But she did ditch the line to go out and meet him, as he was walking up on the property. Maybe she did rush, more than she usually would, because her breath did feel a bit higher and she bounced some, in front of him, unable to hide her smile.

But Locke didn't return it.

"Take longer next time, idiot," she remarked with little care as she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck. "Not like people were waiting on your or anything."

Locke returned the gesture, tightly, and she knew others were probably watching them, people who'd been away from for far longer, but it didn't matter. As she rested her head in his chest, she felt invigorated already, without even hearing his words.

"Haven," he whispered softly as he bowed his head a bit, his nose brushing her blonde locks. "I need to speak with Astra, I guess, about what happened, but after-"

"We'll go to the barn," she assured him, releasing his neck as she took a step back. "To be alone. Are you...okay?"

And he smiled then, even if it was forced, just for her, before nodding his head and insisting, "I'm fine. Let's go talk to her. Get it over with."

Haven nodded, but didn't turn to walk away as, instead, she eyed him carefully before remarking, "You're not sick, are you?"

"Not that I know of." He started walking on anyways, catching her hand as he passed and taking her along. "Why?"

"You seem off."

"I'm tired. Just got out of fucking Bosco. That's all."

He was tense though. She could tell. Like something was bothering him. And it didn't help that, as they walked together through the property, the eyes of most of the others were on them. Or at least the newest of newcomers. They'd certainly seen Locke be helpful at the end of their time at the manor, but he still had been seen as guard for far longer and there was an air of apprehension to his presence.

This usually would have bothered Locke. Haven knew it would. But he only continued on, up to the tiny house, and gave no hesitation as he popped open the door.

Astra was in there, they could see her through the screen door as they'd approached, smoking a cigarette and going over some sort of map. She didn't even glance up at them when they entered, instead just sighing loudly and gesturing to the seats before her.

"Welcome back," she greeted Locke around her smoke as, releasing his girlfriend's hand, he moved instead to pull out a chair for the woman. "Any trouble crossing the boarder? Wanted fugitive?"

"I stayed," he began as he claimed his own seat, dragging it a bit closer to Haven's and away from the woman across from them both now, "behind to be at the manor when they showed up. Alwood brought men from the nearby city and had re quested capital guards as well. I used my own magic to cut up my face a bit and well as give myself a deep gash in my chest and a few more shallow ones. I'd knew I'd be able to heal them later and it made it look like I was attacked as well. When Alwood's men arrived, I was in the foyer with the other dead guards and they bought it fully. There was another guard, Garth, that survived after being dumped in the upstairs penthouse and he corroborated most of I said. So they all dispersed, to seek out the women, thinking they'd fled into the surrounding area and, when I was eventually left alone, I was able to use a lacrima to send a simple signal to Luka. When they returned empty handed, Alwood had me and Garth taken to a nearby inn, to recuperate; and to wait for those capital guards. They questioned us, I told them what I thought I should, remarked that I just wanted to get back to Fiore, and after a few days, they allowed me to go."

Astra stared at him for a few moments before, with a bit of a shrug, saying, "It's just as well they didn't suspect you of anything. There should have been no reason for them to, other than Haven's claims of them discovering the two of you meeting, but… If they allowed you back into Fiore, they must not be too concerned with you."

"People know about what happened at Ewing's place," Haven butted in. "Especially Alwood. They wouldn't think Locke had anything to do with it because they probably fully believe it is a rebellion."

"The rumblings of one, at least," Astra offered with a shrug. The woman had been in a better mood as of late though and, when she lifted her head to smile at Locke, it felt genuine. "Can you tell me anything else about Alwood? Right now, our focus is going to be scoping out the tunnel system, but following that-"

"Nope." The man even shook his head. "I can't. Didn't really spend much time around him. Anything useful I could tell you died in the manor. Everyone I spent time around didn't make it out."

She made some sort of noise of disappointment, but still only offered, "You look ill. Go rest up. It's meal time. I'm sure we'll all have a chance to speak later."

It was Haven's gaze that lingered on the man's though, even as they both stood and exited the house. He was walking ahead of her, typically a cardinal sin, but Haven only stared at his back, following him all the way back to the barn. They nearly made it inside, but they could hear him then, rushing over. Xavier. He even called out to them.

"Hey, Locke! Haven! Look, I snagged you lunch."

He nearly fell in his rush, with both hands just barely balancing a tiny tray each. But he found himself fully righted, before the two of them, a bright grin spread across his face.

"Thanks, X," Locke offered in that same, strange tone he'd had since arriving. Almost void. Preoccupied. But he took the tray presented to him, all the same, before remarking, "I'll see you in the morning, huh? I'm beat. We'll hang out tomorrow though. Promise."

"Uh...okay, I guess," the young teen replied as Haven took her own tray. "I just thought that maybe-"

"Tomorrow, Xay." Haven gave him a stern look. "Which means don't bother us at dinner time either. Or let anyone else do it. Locke's tired."

He blinked some, Xavier did, before snickering instead and tossing a hand behind his head. "I get it. You wanna be _alone."_

This got a look from Locke and a roll of the eyes from Haven, but just as quickly, one of the other guys was calling to Xavier, further out in the yard, in regards to some training stuff, and the teen darted off, leaving the pair behind.

In the barn, Locke was quick to set his tray upon one of the big, wooden boxes that were scattered about before moving to drop his bag. He took in a breath, perhaps one of relief, rolling his shoulders while glancing about.

But Haven wasn't nearly as put at ease as the man was.

"Why did you lie to Astra?"

"What?"

She was eyeing him carefully, Haven was, going to set her untouched tray to the side as well before coming to stand before her boyfriend.

"Why," she repeated as she reached out then, for his shirt, to tug it up, "did you lie to Astra?"

"I didn't."

"I can tell when you're lying." She took no pleasure out of him continuing on, tugging his shirt over his own head now, revealing his chest. With a single finger, she ran it over his left pec, questioning, "Where did you cut?"

"Here." Locke took her hand in his own, dragging it lower. "And stabbed, is what I did. It was actually kind of stupid, really, but I did panic a bit, when I realized that I needed to have some sort of wound to deter detection. I'd thought I'd lock myself in a room, and pretend to be the same as Garth, but I thought that it would really keep them off my back, if he was the only one truly unharmed. Put some attention on him."

Haven nodded, allowing her finger to train further when he released her hand. Deviating, she instead went to his hip, where her other fingers then moved to squeeze. Softly, she questioned instead, "If you don't want to tell me why, at least tell me what actually happened?"

Frowning down at the woman, Locke replied, "You wanted time. When you got back. So-"

"What really happened with Alwood?"

He didn't turn away from her. Shove her away. Only sighed, loudly, before saying, "Can we at least eat? Please?"

This took place on their loft, seated beside one another, balancing their trays in their laps, feet dangling over the edge. For Locke, the meal was a huge downgrade from what he'd been fed as a guard on the manor, but for Haven, even over a week out, it still felt like something to be very grateful for.

"I guess," Locke sighed softly, "that I need to write my parents. And yours. It's been a bit."

"I already did."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean? Idiot?" She didn't glance up at him and instead seemed very interested in her sandwich then. "I already wrote to mine. And yours. On your behalf."

"Why?"

"You could try thanking me," she replied instead. "I go out of my way to make sure that your dumb parents are scared about you being in Bosco-"

"What did you tell them?" Locke questioned, still suspicious. "Exactly?"

"That you were safe and fine and that they shouldn't worry about you."

"They're going to think that you murdered me out here." Locke shook his head slightly. "They're going to come looking for me. They-"

"Why do you always say that?" she complained. "Sounds like a guilty conscious trying to ward their own guilt onto an innocent."

"You were even born innocent," he retorted simply, but the woman merely gave a look before dumping the majority of her food over, onto his place.

"I'm not that hungry," was her explanation. "And are you going to tell me already? About your secret? Or are you hoping that I'm going to just forget?"

"It's usually a good bet," he told her wryly. "With you."

"Locke-"

"Bring me my bag. I have something for you."

"Get it yourself, loser."

"Haven-"

"Hold on." And she didn't crawl over to the ladder, but rather just jumped down to the barn floor with little concern. "It better be expensive."

"Where exactly would I get you something expensive, huh? In the short amount of time I wasn't trying to figure a way out of the kingdom-"

"You have guard money." She didn't move to bring him his bag however, like he'd wanted. Rather, she just bent down, right before it, unzipping the pack with little concern. "Who else are you going to spend it on? Yourself?"

"For someone who would do exactly that-"

"Oh, Locke, wow!" Haven had tossed his dirty laundry to the side with little abandon only to discover, at the bottom of the pack, some cans of the specific soda pop he'd been gifting her, back at the manor. "You remembered?"

"At the little shop next to the train station on my way out," he confirmed. "I specifically had to ask for it."

He finally was able to lighten up, just a bit, watching from above as Haven seemed momentarily joyful. Pleasing the woman often alluded him and he was grateful for when he could accomplish it.

"Can you bring me my bag now?" he requested again as Haven popped the tab on a drink before downing half. "Please? So I can give you what I actually have?"

"What do you mean?" She was quick to snatch up the bag and head over to him. "There's more?"

"Sort of." Locke set his tray to the side and, when Haven was back up on the loft with him, only held out a hand to take the bag. "I wasn't constantly on guard duty or lingering around the others. I spent some time in my room too. Especially late at night. And you know when I can't sleep-"

"A spell?" Haven watched him take one of his journals from the pack. "For me?"

"For," Locke said simply, "your demon."

He opened the journal to a specific page, having to flick passed a lot of writing that didn't make much sense to Haven, but he stopped eventually, on a page with a few deconstructed sentences and then one, fully written out incantation.

"I've spent a lot of time on this," he informed the woman. "I've been looking into it since you brought my mother and I those papers, back from Ivan's lab. I know my mother gave you some stuff, but I've been trying really hard to figure out some other things for you. My magical improvement has kind of hit a lull and no one here really needs my help, other than you, so-"

"Let me see it." She snatched the journal out of his hand as she sat back down beside him. "What does this do?"

"Your mom has some sort of power bomb she can toss out, that is stronger than the orbs you throw around in your demon form," he said simply. "So I was working off that, to replicate it. It's not much, but I think that it's going to help you eventually transition into more powerful attacks, if not a full body takeover. But I need you to try it out, to see if I'm no the right track, because this stuff is way higher level than I'm used to and-"

"I can go try it right now! I'll go out in the forest, maybe bring Xavier, and-" Haven frowned as she forced herself to come to a stop, her excitement dying as she instead glared at her boyfriend. "Nice try, asshole."

"What?" Locke frowned. "Why are you-"

"You're not," she insisted then as she closed the journal and set it to the side, "going to distract me."

"I'm not trying to. I just-"

"You ate," she remarked with a nod over to where their trays sat now, behind them. "So spill. What really went on in Bosco?"

Locke took in a deep breath before saying, "I wasn't lying. About Alwood coming back and them searching around for you guys. But he didn't put us up in a hotel. He took us to a satellite station for his business, to question us further, really, but also to try and give us a chance to rest up afterwards."

"What do you mean?" Haven questioned. "A satellite station?"

"Like…a holding place. For...marked people. And for others to stop by to purchase them, I guess. I don't know. I just know that he put us each up in a room there and offered us, you know, a woman or whatever and-"

"Why didn't you tell this to Astra?" she cut him off with a complaint. "If you know a location like that, it could be valuable. Why-"

"That's not all." Taking in a deep breath, Locke hunched his shoulders some and Haven frowned, beside him, feeling his discomfort. "His assistant was there. And she came to my room one night to talk and said that she was worried about me, or whatever, about what I'd just gone through, and she'd heard that I wanted to head back home, but..."

He raised his gaze then, to look at the woman. He found Haven's own awaiting him, dark and questioning, making him frown.

"We just talked," he insisted then. "But it was… She was kind of...lightning me up a bit, I guess, about how strong and determined I must have been, to survive. And then she told me about how, probably, she could get me a job at Alwood's place, if I ever decided I wanted it."

Haven sat back some then, thinking it seemed, while her boyfriend only continued to stare at her, expecting something.

"She doesn't suspect anything," the blonde whispered softly then. "None of them must, if they're not only letting you leave, but she's also giving you the chance to come back. "Unless it's a setup, but… I think she's into you."

"Yeah," Locke remarked and neither had their teasing tones then, Both were flat. "I know."

"So she'd get you into the main estate, I bet." She shook her head some. "But I think she travels around, with him, and if she wanted you close… You could probably get in as one of his main bodyguards. Maybe. If she was into you enough. And-"

"Haven-"

"I think Alwood's pretty fucking important," she pointed out then. "If we could kill him… It'd almost be like an assassination of one of the top families in the Kingdom."

"I'm not doing it."

"Doing what? I'm not saying that you kill him. Or me, but with you in there, keeping tabs on him-"

"I'm not doing any of it, okay?" And he looked off finally, down at his lap as a hand came up to rub roughly against his eye socket. "I… I don't think that I should be S-Class. Haven. Or at least shouldn't have come here. This is… This is too fucking much for me, alright?"

"Locke-"

"No." He shoved her off when she tried to reach for him, nearly pushing himself off the ledge. "I had to leave people fucking behind, in that satellite location, that are going raped and tortured and killed. I saw people on my way to and from train stations that are going to suffer the same fates. And you know the shittiest part? The shittiest thing about me? When I close my eye, I don't fucking see them. I can't. I just keep seeing all of those guys, Anderson, Halbert, all of them, I see them lying there, dead, and I think about their dead bodies and their families, back home, waiting on them, but they're going to find out that they're dead, that they're just fucking dead, and they deserve it though, they had to, I know that, but I still-"

"Take a breath." She didn't let him shove her off then, falling into him so heavily that he had to allow it. Haven wasn't exactly the comforting type and tried hard to replicate what he'd always done for her, pulling his head close to her chest, sitting up on her knees to get all the height over him she could. "It's okay. You're okay."

"I'm not," he muttered softly. "This is...beyond me. This isn't the type of shit that we deal in, Haven. I feel fucking gross. How can we even be happy about tiny victories when all this other shit is still going on?"

"I'm not happy," she told him simply, bowing her head some to rest it against his hair. "Who's happy? I'm amped, to go out and do the next portion of things, but I'm not happy. I'm not gloating. Or celebrating. I'm gearing back up to do whatever we need to do to keep going. We go out on jobs and take down, maybe, one portion of a gang, understanding that we still have to catch the ringleader, right? This is that, but stretched out. Shitty things are happening to people you now have a distanced acknowledgment about. Okay. And? They would happen if you were here or not. You did what you needed to do. Now you take a break, regroup, and get back to it."

Locke blinked some, trying to find some comfort in her hold, before whispering softly, "I'm not saying it's not the right thing. What we're doing. I'm saying that _I_ think that there's something wrong with me and-"

"It's okay to feel bad, Locke." She released him some, allowing the man to lift his head and stare up at her. "Life's fucking complicated. You can't help your emotions. I can say, easily, that they deserved it and, outside of a few moments of reflection, I'll probably never think of them again. But you're different than me. You always have been."

"I feel like a shit person," he told her bluntly. "But I keep thinking about how Anderson told me about his mom and sister or Halbert, he had a girlfriend that he'd met, in Seven, with a kid, and he was saving up to bring them to Bosco and I just…"

"Okay." Haven fully released him then. "You're a shit person."

Frowning, he glared some as he said, "What?"

"You're," she said simply, "a shit person. If that's what you wanna be. I'm shit a person too. For different reasons. Welcome to the club. Wallow in it for the night and then focus. Ready back up. Shit people have a way better chance at changing things for the better than good people; we know how to get our hands dirty. You think Richard's a good person? Or Astra? No. But they're fighting for something good. And that's what matters. This isn't Fairy Tail, Locke, remember? And our enemy isn't someone that could just be good, maybe, if they were given the right avenue. So we can't fight them like they are."

"I know that. I just-"

"Shae thinks of her mom. All the time." Haven looked off. "And I… What if it was your mom? Or mine? What if Marin was stuck over here, Locke? You'd do whatever you have to, wouldn't you? Push through it? To get to her? Even if it meant being a shit person?"

"Of course I fucking would. I-"

"If Anderson," she questioned, "took Marin into one of those rooms in the penthouse and-"

"Haven-"

"If he did," she kept up, swallowing some, "that to Marin, would you be sitting here whining about it? Or feeling sorry for his mother and sister? I fucking wouldn't. And you wouldn't either. All those women we freed from the penthouse? They're somebodies Marin. Locke. Even if they fucking weren't, they matter. Sometimes people do things that they can't come back from. And that's saying a fucking lot, coming from me. If someone even said that they'd hurt your mom...or my sister that way, even thought about it, wouldn't you want to make sure that they couldn't do it? Ever?"

Locke sat back from her then, silent, before saying, "I don't want to go back there. Right now. Alwood's. Alright?"

"Astra's focused on the tunnels," Haven said simply. "When it comes time to check back in with Alwood, I'll bring up your stupid thing with the assistant and we'll go from there. You'll be fine by then. I promise. Just… Clear your head for a few days. Stop thinking about it all. And...talk to your friend. Shae. Seriously. She'll probably make you feel better than I will."

It was Locke's turn to make a face finally, shaking his head at the woman's attempt at pity. Still, shifting closer to her again, Locke allowed his head to fall forwards, resting against her chest with a bit of a sigh.

Nuzzling into her breasts, he remarked against the fabric of her shirt, "We have so much other shit to talk about, how am I going to clear my head?"

"Yeah," Haven agreed as she wrapped an arm around him again. "Like how you just conveniently keep running into this assistant woman-"

"Or," he countered, "where you get off, thinking you can just write my parents without my permission-"

"Your haircut," she decided for the both of them, "is probably going to be the first thing we need to talk about."

"I thought you liked it?"

"Undetermined."

"Hey." He shoved away then as she fell back, off her knees, and they were in back in their standards once more. "We missed out on speaking about that shit in the shed that day too. I wasn't going to let Crigin hurt you, you know."

"Shut up."

"I'm serious. I-"

"We look out for each other." She hit him then, hard, in his bare shoulder, right by his guild marking. "And besides, Crigin told you to fuck and you should have."

"Haven-"

"You can't blow your cover."

"You're fucked."

She hit him again, for that, and he shoved her and then they tussled a bit, maybe, but eventually, he set out to fixing up their sleeping bags, right beside one another, and Haven took to glancing over the journal.

But the woman didn't leave, off to go discover this potential power. Locke thought she would and didn't necessarily hate the idea of it, knowing he needed to catch some serious sleep, but he was still thankful when she stretched out with him, already seeming somewhat better, having laid everything out to her.

"We're going to wake up at, like, two in the morning," she said with a frown, "and our sleep schedules are going to be fucked all week because of it."

"Maybe," he offered as they didn't huddled down into their sleeping bags, but rather laid atop them, rested close to one another. "But maybe that's for the better. Get up early tomorrow, you can tell me about what's been going on here? Maybe even head into town, with out X, and get my own letter sent to my parents?"

"You are a shit person," she told him with a frown. "I let you write home to my parents on my behalf-"

"You literally dictated every single word and corrected me, many times, when I tried anything else."

"-but you won't even let me, the only woman that has ever loved you-"

"You," he decided then, "are the shit person."

"-write home to your parents. Who I've known. Literally my entire life. You can't even trust me that much. Wow. What does that say about our relationship, Locke?"

"That I need a better one."

"Shit person."

He rested his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes as he said, "I love you."

But she only reached out to flick him in the forehead. "That's because you're stupid."

"Haven-"

"I love you too, damn. Needy much?"

"A lot," he admitted and that made her break some, nuzzling her forehead against his.

"You'll be alright, Locke," she promised him. "Always, right?"

"Always," he agreed and it would take awhile, for either to find sleep, but the man did enjoy when his girlfriend toyed with his hair as they drifted off.

He wasn't wrong. Neither were exhausted enough to sleep a decent amount and, around midnight, Locke awoke to find himself alone.

Groaning some, waited a good twenty minutes or so, only slightly alert, waiting for his girlfriend to show back up. When this didn't happen, he eventually thought it good to get up himself, maybe. Get some air. Take a piss. Maybe find Haven. Then he could maybe fall back to sleep.

But it was more difficult than he thought to find the woman.

Most everyone was tucked away in their tents, though a few people were seated around the main fire pit, shooting the breeze. He found Richard among them, of course, standing before the fire as he told some sort of captivating (or maybe revolting, given some of the listeners seemed engaged, but uneasy) story. At the sight of the other man, however, Richard was quick to end things, jogging right over to Locke.

"Heard ya had a hand in severin' a connection of mine?"

Locke frowned as Richard laughed, loudly, into the otherwise still night. With a shale of his head, the younger man insisted, "That was all the women. I only did what I was told."

"There's always a place, I guess," Richard told him with that shit eating grin of his, when he knew he was gassing someone up good, "for little soldiers, just lookin' to follow orders."

"I'm not in the mood for talking." Locke crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm just looking for Haven."

"Your girlfriend take off, huh? Get what she want from ya and leave? Careful to do it yourself first from now on."

But when Locke didn't seem up for his games, the older guy gave in a bit with a shrug.

"I mightta seen her headed off, into the forest, 'bout an hour ago," the older man said. "Called out to her, but she seemed pretty determined."

Locke trust his ability to eventually zero in on his girlfriend above all else. He knew that she'd probably been unable to turn it off fully, her desire to test out her new spell, and while he didn't blame her, he also intended to drag her ass back to the barn until morning. And maybe scold her a bit, on taking on such a task without someone there if things went south.

But it wasn't Haven he found so easily.

Rather, it was Shae.

She was on watch duty that evening, along side a bouncing Xavier, who was going on about something Locke didn't quite catch, but for what it was worth, it didn't seem like the woman was listening much anyhow.

As the pair noted Locke, he was quick to head their way, more easily faking smiles now, especially when, the second she was close enough, Shae moved to wrap her arms around his neck.

"I heard you got back," she said as, pulling back, she mirrored his grin back at him. "I wasn't too worried about you, but it's good to see you."

Locke nodded some before, glancing at Xavier, asking the teen, "Hey, man, you think you can continue on for a few? Alone? Wouldn't want someone to sneak passed patrol, would we?"

Xavier wasn't stupid. He was clearly being sent away for a reason. Still, though he deflated and grumbled a bit, he just carried on alone then, flashlight in hand and gun slung over his back. Shae and Locke watched him go for a moment before looking to one another again.

"How are you?" the man asked her and she'd been poised to question something similar to him, but seemed taken aback by his questioning of her.

"Fine," she answered tightly before adding, "Why?"

Losing his grin, he told her her solemnly, "I know that it wasn't easy. Or maybe it was. But… It has to be heavy on you, right or wrong. What happened. So I just wanted to make sure-"

"I did what I had to," she told him bluntly, sensing some foolery after only a few days prior having a similar conversation with the man's girlfriend. "So-"

"I know," he agreed with a nod. "and I'm glad. If you hadn't, I would have let Wick go and it would have fucked everything up. So thanks. I just know that shit's heavy and… I was thinking that tomorrow, maybe, we could talk about it? Or whenever. I just want to make sure you're okay. Really. Sometimes shit like this doesn't set in until later. When all the shock wears off. I know that there's a lotta shit going on right now, but… I'm here. Whenever you need me."

Shae hugged him again, before they parted, and Locke decided, maybe, he and Haven should let Xay tag along the next day, to mail the letter. The kid clearly deserved some attention. And then he spent another good half hour or so, searching out the woman, before giving up.

He was quite pissed when he got back and found Haven not only back, but also stretched out across both sleeping bags and leaving very little room for him.

"Haven," he loudly complained as he stripped back down for some more sleep. "Where were you? Haven? I know you're not really asleep."

"A person can't shit without telling you?" she grumbled as he, none too gently, pushed and shoved to make room for himself.

"Bullshit," he retorted through a yawn. "You went to check out your powers. Didn't you? You're still not asleep, so-"

"If I say yes, will you shut up?"

"That was dangerous," he griped as, once he settled down, Haven only shifted right back over onto his half of things. "You know."

"Shuddup," she continued to complain, resting her head against his arm. "Go to sleep."

"You're not even going to tell me how it went?"

"If I did," she reasoned in a clipped tone, "then you'll stay up all night going over your dumb spell breaking or whatever."

"Which is a bad thing?" he questioned. "When you literally got in the middle of the night to play with your magic?"

"It's different when I do it."

"Hey, Haven?"

"Go to sleep," she whined now, but he only kept up.

"You remember, I mean, I guess I know you do, but when you first...came back to life or whatever, last summer, and when you would sleep-"

She groaned some, cutting him off, as she shoved up with one arm, just to reach out with the other hand and grip his chin tightly.

"If you need me," she told him simply, "I'm here. But you don't right now. There's nothing to worry about. What? Was it your first time seeing a dead body?"

"No, asshole," he retorted with a frown as, when she released him, she moved to rest her head on his chest. "That wouldda been you. So you're really not helping anything."

"What do you want from me?" she complained right back. "I've try really hard today, you know?"

"I know," he sighed, the one to toy with her hair then. Blinking up at the hole in the ceiling, he frowned at the starless night while remarking, "I just think that… What you did with Ewing, before, was big, fine, but this… We're really in this now, you know? The Kingdom's going to be looking for the women that we brought back here. For you. And Shae. Seriously. I know it's just the beginning, but-"

"I told you earlier, Locke." She tilted her head up then, to stare at him lazily. "I protect you and you protect me. Nothing can come between us. What's ever beaten me and you?"

"I mean, you died. When we were together. So-"

"Nothing," she insisted with a bit of an edge, "can beat me and you when were on the same page. Ever. We probably would have been the most powerful one in the history of Fairy Tail, if Navi and Ravan weren't holding us back all those years."

"You," he warned softly, "are terrible at revisionist history. You know that?"

"Oh, yeah." She closed her eyes. "By the way, depending on who you ask, I might have killed Wick."

"What? Haven-"

"You left me all alone, to deal with all those women by myself. What did you think was going to happen?"

He wanted to argue more, but it was clear the woman was falling asleep on him (literally) and, well, he only let out a long groan before saying, "So much for being on the same page."

She only shifted, to kiss his bicep, and it was just as hard this time, to fall back asleep. Locke watched the sky from the hole, content in holding his girlfriend, in being back at base, knowing everyone of importance was safe and accounted for, even if it was only momentary. Eventually it was enough.

Eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for A Call to Arms. Next part up (hopefully) at the end of this month.


	10. Revisited, Part I

The cold would come soon.

The weather had just started to turn, bringing about a slight edge to the wind at times and the leaves were only just beginning to crisp, but soon enough, autumn would be in full swing. It was prone to rather harsh winters, Locke knew, the portion of Fiore they were in, and he didn't imagine that the months proceeding that were very nice either.

That night in particular, as he watched clouds shift through the hole in the roof he'd still neglected to getting around to patching, Locke also observed a few leaves tumbling down as well. When it got too cold, he imagined, living out in the tents would be all that enjoyable. People would have to come into the barn or the house. Either way, he and Haven would probably lose their solitude.

He found that he rather liked it. Having the barn all to themselves. As he glanced down at his side then, to see where his girlfriend was resting against his side, he decided right then and there that they'd brave the cold together. Give up the barn and go live in a tent. Just the two of them.

It had been a calming few weeks.

Astra had left, back for Bosco, along with Richard. They were going to scope out the tunnel system, with Lucka providing some men to assist in this. As for the rest of them back on base, Astra merely sighed some some, as she looked them all over, and teasingly informed X that he was in charge.

It wouldn't be until Haven blatantly ignored his first command and he caught Shae and Locke snickering to one another behind his back that Xavier realized she'd not meant seriously.

Things across camp were pretty mellow. Locke could tell some of the new women were very uncomfortable with his presence and, as his funk wore away, this bothered him just as much as Haven had first worried. But as someone who'd spent the majority of their life as a hated person, his girlfriend was more than willing to show him the ropes.

It helped that she too, now, had someone sending glares her way frequently.

Of the older women, not many stuck around, but the main three seemed to have nowhere else to go. Gyu, T, and Wanda had been down the longest and though the former two seemed to be trying to contact some family in other Kingdoms, in hopes of heading there, Wanda made no mention of this to anyone. She spent most of her day trying very hard to get Nessa, the young woman they'd taken back wit them, to speak with her.

She presented the biggest problem, Nessa did.

"If we let her go back to Bosco," Astra pointed out the first time she had the whole group together, in the kitchen, only a day or so after Locke had first arrived back, "then she will surely give some info to our enemies. And if we let her loose her, she might someone get to the capital and while I don't believe it's illegal in Fiore to free slaves from Bosco-"

"We're kidnappers," Haven thought to inform them all bluntly and Locke, luckily, at that time was still going through his own darkness and only let out a bit of a sigh.

"No," Shae retorted with a glare. "She's free to leave. She just...has nowhere to go. At all. And that woman, Wanda, is her mother, and she's a child, so we can't kidnap someone if they're with their own parent."

"Someone will need to keep an eye on the girl," Richard finally spoke up, his usually jovial tone dead as he spoke with a heaviness not usually known to the man. "And not her mother. She's dangerous."

"She's a little girl," Shae kept up. "She's harmless. We just keep her here until she understands why it's necessary-"

"Like," Haven muttered softly to Locke, "kidnappers."

"I'll keep an eye on her!" Xay, who'd been mostly useless, honestly, in the past few months, was sensing a change in that. At Astra's looks of hesitance, he only insisted to the woman, "I'll befriend her. Like… Like a double agent! I'll tell her that you guys kidnapped me too!"

"No one," Shae insisted them, and she was growing agitated, "kidnapped anyone."

"Let X get close to her," Locke finally spoke up, raising his gaze to stare across the table at where the younger guy stood. "To convince her. Of what was wrong with Bosco and all that shit her father did. That's your job, okay? You're going to help her understand, the way that the rest of us are going to eventually force the rest of Bosco to understand, why you can't fucking own people. Why it's evil and wrong and, eventually, you pay for your sins. That'll be your job now, X. Can you handle it?"

The teen felt all the other's eyes on him then and, scratching at the back of his head, he offered simply, "I guess so."

Everything felt tense though, those first few days. For everyone. Shae had found herself in charge of the penthouse women that stuck around, which was a load of trauma no one rightly knew how to deal with, while Haven found herself sitting with Locke in the barn, talking around all of what was bogging him down. Richard and Astra had their usual struggles while Xavier, now, finally, truly presented with a job, tried hard to figure out how to go about it.

He didn't have an easy road ahead of him.

And Locke would have liked to assist him more, in it, but he had his own mental anguish to deal with. The few times they did run into one another tough, he would sigh through listening to status updates. Eventually though, he thought to impart something new on the guy.

"You know," Locke told him simply, "if you really want to become friends with her, I'd probably go through her mother first."

"Oh, like you told me before," Xavier remarked with a bright grin. "Like when you were stalking that girl and her mom-"

"I wasn't," Locke complained as Haven snickered from his side, "doing that."

Still, the days would pass and, as Locke felt more like himself, he did observe Xavier at least somewhat become friendly with the other teen. It helped, probably, that they were the only two around of that age and, therefore, had something rather important in common. And Wanda, who eyed him with distrust, seemed to realize, as her daughter refused to rightly speak with her, that he would be much better suited at getting through to the girl.

Everyone needed someone to be there for them. And they'd seek that person out, when not readily available. Locke felt lucky, maybe, that he'd been more or less gifted that someone his entire life. Haven wasn't always the easiest person to draw sympathy from, or even available for that sympathy to be dispensed, but she was here now. And had been since her revival. And it meant everything to him.

When he shifted a bit, when a leaf fluttered down towards his face and he had to knock it away, the motion seemed to rouse his girlfriend a bit. Her breathing stuttered, as she took a deeper one in, and Locke tried to skew his eyes shut, feign sleep as well, as not to draw her ire for waking her.

Haven groaned though, not rightly understanding what had awakened her, and even shifted away from him as she yawned. Blinking some, she noted some of the stray leafs floating in and, after pinning the disruption on them, decided it was his fault.

For not patching the roof.

Looking then to her boyfriend, who she originally hoped was up so she could chew him out a bit, Haven instead noted his pretend sleep rather easily, as he was still peeking an eye open a bit down at her, and decided she wanted something else instead.

Locke allowed both of his eyes to flutter open, still trying to pretend as if he'd just regained consciousness, as Haven had shoved up some, only to fall more heavily into him.

"Hey," she whispered, nuzzling her head against his. "Locke."

"Mmm," he moaned in reply. "Hey."

"When are you gonna fix the roof?" she questioned before pressing a kiss to his neck, a hand running down his chest.

"When you do," he retorted softly and Haven huffed some, her breath tickling his cheek before she pressed a kiss there. Squeezing his eyes shut, Locke only whispered, "It's almost sunup. Everyone will be around."

"So?" she asked as her hand snaked lower and he moaned softly. "I don't give a shit."

"Me neither," Locke gave in easily and Haven laughed, in a tone that almost felt too feminine for her. It made him smile, reaching up to run a thumb over her cheek, the woman still blinking somewhat sleepily. "Fuck 'em."

"Fuck me," she changed and it was his turn to laugh, leaning up to press his forehead to hers.

The sun was just beginning to lighten the sky when they left the barn, both avoiding any other early risers as they headed down to the river together, to wash off the morning's early activities.

It annoyed Xavier some, as Haven was late that morning, for their sunrise work out with the others, but she only told him that she was skipping out on it.

"Locke and I made some super important breakthroughs on my new spell," she told the younger guy. "You lead everyone in the work out. And then, tonight, you can come join us, alright? We'll just be in the forest."

Xavier begrudgingly let her go, watching the woman and her boyfriend disappear, back into the forest once more. This time they weren't headed back for the river where, now, it was the men's turn to bathe (the women would have their slot after breakfast), but rather a clearing they'd found that was perfect for testing out Haven's fledgling powers.

They were both in high spirits that morning, Locke and Haven were, after their earlier activities. They sat together on a fallen log, Locke pulling out a journal from the pack he'd slung over his back, to read off a few spell related things to her, while Haven only leaned into his arm, idly listening.

"-figured out where I'd gone wrong before," he was saying as the woman yawned some, perhaps having needed that allotted time spent on snoozing, as opposed to her chosen venture. "I think that I overestimated just how powerful the-"

"Locke," she questioned eventually. "Just show me the new portion so I can try it out, okay?"

"You should really listen though," he said. "To understand. If you would take this stuff seriously-"

"I listened to you over dinner last night, explain most of it."

"You didn't listen. You rolled your eyes the whole time and openly mocked me."

"If I didn't listen, then I wouldn't have any good mocking material."

"Haven-"

"Give me this." She snatched up the journal then before bouncing up to her feet. Walking towards the center of the clearing, her eyes traced some of the page before dropping the journal to the ground and tossing up an arm instead. Remarking to her boyfriend, "You don't have to understand magic to do magic."

"I mean, if you want to be good at it," he tsked as he stood as well, though it was only to fold his arms over his chest, "then it's best to understand it."

So far, his attempts at providing her with an equivalent spell to her mother's Demon Blast seemed to be lacking. It had been through her own experimentation that Haven had been able to form small orbs to begin with, not truly a spell, but closer to a natural excess flow of energy. Since absorbing the demon, when she allowed her electricity to flow freely, it always led to the steady drip of demonic energy. Outside of her Arm Takover, she truly didn't have much to go on. Just a demon name and nothing else.

Locke told her that if he could help her figure this out, how to have a more concentrated orb, then he could work on an eventual full body Takeover.

The idea was equally frightening as it was enticing.

Standing in the clearing now, Haven allowed the Takeover to engulf her arm, her flesh becoming the rough, scaled, and scarred of the demon's, a slight pain as her fingers seemed to grow, her nails extending into grotesque, pointed claws and the exhiliration each and every time she allowed this had yet to die off.

It felt so fucking good, unleashing that part of herself, and as Haven glanced over her arm, it was with a slight grin.

"Alright," Locke called out to her, his tone causing her to turn towards him. "Now try the spell."

She sent him a look for interrupting her basking, but still, as she lowered her arm, it was call out the words he'd written down, with the exact inflection and magical flow he'd suggested. A dark purple magic circle formed beneath her palm, before in its place energy back to gather, black and void, at first a tiny sphere that seemed to grow immensely in a matter of seconds.

This was a bit of an improvement from their previous trial runs and Locke started to smile, laughing a bit as he prepared to call out to her, but it only took a moment for that relief to fade away.

She hadn't been able to summon the orb, the first few times they tried. Been unable to grow it the others. But now, as it grew in her palm, she seemed unable to stop it and, as Haven jerked her hand back, rather than floating before it, the energy fell back, with her instinctively trying to catch it in her hand, causing her to cry out as it no doubt seared her flesh.

"Haven!" Locke rushed right over, staring with concern as she immediately dropped the takeover, the energy dissipating around them and her arm returning to its normal shape save the fact she now had a rather concerning burn running the length of her forearm, up into her palm. Quickly, her boyfriend reached for her. "Here, let me-"

"Did you see it?" She grinned despite the pain. "I had it! I fucking had it. And then-"

"You couldn't control it."

" _I"_ she challenged, "can fucking control lightning from Raijin himself. Your fucking spell didn't work properly, is what it was."

"Haven-"

"That fucking stings," she complained, trying to jerk away from his grasp then, but he held tight to her wrist with one hand as the other applied a healing spell. The sourness of failure beginning to catch up with her, she said, "And it's your fucking fault."

"My fault? That you couldn't control-"

"Shut up. Idiot. Just admit you're wrong."

"Me admit that I'm wrong?"

"Have an original thought some time and stop just repeating mine."

And any of their warm, fuzzy feelings from the early morning were beginning to dissipate.

Haven sat in the grass now, away from him, looking over her arm, while Locke only retrieved his journal and went over the spell again.

This would be their pattern until noon. Trying out spells, finding them to fail, and then arguing about whose fault it was. They'd just had such a falling out and Locke, picking up on something he hadn't considered before, was about ready to more carefully question Haven on something in particular when Xavier finally showed up.

"Are you guys fighting?" was the first thing he asked after arriving, noting the glares being sent one another's way.

"No," Locke said curtly, but Haven only scoffed.

"He's not worth fighting with," she insisted to which her boyfriend snorted.

He wasn't fully convinced, the teen wasn't, but also didn't rightly care as he announced to the pair of them, "That's good. Because I told Shae that the three of us could go into town, right now, to go get the supplies for the week."

"Why would you do that, X?" Locke complained. "We're very busy-"

"No, we're not." Haven refused to return her boyfriend's stare when he sent one her way. "Let's go right now."

While a trip into town wasn't exactly something the woman was looking forward to, she also didn't want to admit to Locke in that moment that her magic was draining, fast, and she wouldn't be able to preform many more tests for him. The demon Takeover was straining to do repeatedly over the course of a few hours, and this gave her the easy out for a break.

They headed out, Xay tugging a wagon behind them to load things into, while Haven and Locke originally wouldn't speak to one another, both walking stiffly. Xavier directed most of his chatter towards the woman, thankfully for Locke, as mentally he most just ran over equations and his magical spells, hoping to locate the problem in his current one.

It was a slow day in the market and, after giving Xavier some jewels, Locke instructed him in exactly what to buy before remarking to his girlfriend that they could at least check in at the mail office.

"I rented a box," he reminded Haven as they went, both still rather curt with one another. "And gave my parents the address. Since it seems like this is where we're staying for a bit. In case they wanted to send us anything."

By anything, Locke had mostly meant a letter or two, maybe, having expected one from Haven's parents as well. But while he did find both of those things, he was also instructed at the front desk, when he went to get the key for the postal box, that he had incurred a fee for the storage of a package as well.

"I told them that they didn't have to really send me something," Locke remarked to Haven with a bit of a blush as he carried their letters, and the rather hefty package, to a nearby park where they'd have a chance to go over their contents.

While Haven glanced over both a letter from her mother and one from her sister, Locke took to slicing open the box, not at all shocked to find a nice coat for the upcoming season and a few other random things. Lily had sent him a pack of kiwis, which were beginning to go bad, his father had included two cans of beer, and his mother had sent him a few sweet treats. Mostly though, his eyes were glued to the other envelope, taped to the side of the box, which he quickly moved to grab.

"Holy shit," he remarked, drawing Haven's gaze from across the picnic table. "My parents sent me a, uh, lotta jewels."

"Exactly what a woman wants," Haven remarked. "A guy who's funded by his parents."

"Yeah, and you're every man's dream, Have," he retorted softly as he took to counting. Whistling softly then, he said, "I'm going to write them and tell them not to do that. They probably think that I'm running low, and I guess I am, but-"

"Have you written Navi?"

"What?"

"You told her you would." Finished with her letters it seemed, Haven gave the man her full attention as she said, "You should write to her. About what you've done so far."

"Why do you care?"

"I don't." She handed one of the letters she'd received over to him. "And you should probably read this one from Marin and reply to it, on my behalf."

"Haven-"

"I," she complained, "wrote my parents less than a month ago. I shouldn't have to do more than that."

"If Marin wants to hear from one of us," he tutted, "it's you. And you know that."

"What was all that you told her our last night there? That you were her big brother and you loved her and all that? And yet, you don't write her."

"Haven-"

"Seems like you've been way more derelict than me."

Locke glanced over at her before asking, "Where'd you learn the word- Oh, here it is in your mom's letter."

"I think my parents sent some of these jewels too. I bet." Haven snagged the envelope finally, to count it over herself. "I mean, they probably sent the majority of it."

"We should probably save it," he remarked, rather than argue. He didn't want to argue again, that day, honestly. "Put it in my bank. Or something."

"Or something," she muttered, still counting.

"Look at all that," he said then and his tone was different. Dropping the letter in his own hand, he stared openly at his girlfriend as he said, "When I'm done here, with this, I'll bring home that much on every S-Class job."

"Yeah, right."

"I will," he insisted. "We will. You'll be with me, mostly, I bet. Right?"

"The way shit's going now?" She reluctantly slid the now closed once more envelope back to its rightful owner. "That's a year away. If not more."

"You've heard Astra," he replied. "Shit's going crazy over there right now. People are scrambling. Because of shit we did. I think we're closer to something massive than you think. And since when are you so negative? You're usually convinced that if I just let you go-"

"I could beat my way right through the top brass of Bosco. Of course I could." She gave him a look. "It's just you, I guess. You've been fucking with my head. With all your whining and neediness."

"Shut up." Locke got to his feet once more, tossing the cash envelope as well as their letters into the box with the other things. "Come on. Let's go find X. We've been really trusting so far, leaving him all alone."

Haven was quick to follow after him, walking perhaps a bit too close to the man, their arms brushing frequently. He thought she realized she'd been a bit cold, maybe, teasing him over his mental state the past few weeks, but it would take a lot more than him being short with her to get Haven to apologize for something. This was the closest he'd get unless he escalated things, but…

It wasn't that serious.

Locke found it best, most of the time, to just go with whatever she was willing to present. It saved him a lot of headaches and convoluted thinking.

They found Xavier with a cart not nearly as full as it should be with supplies as the teen, instead, seemed far more interested chatting up the two girls his age that were lingering around him. Both girls took off though, at the approach of Haven and Locke, but the former pinned it on the slight glare of the latter.

"Nice going, Hav," Locke joked weakly, still cautious of pissing her off once more. "You scared off his little girlfriends."

Luckily, she was too busy eyeing Xay to catch his jest.

"You're not doing yet?" was all she asked with a bit of annoyance towards the teen, who only grinned sheepishly, his cheeks previously rosy from the young girls now staying that way, though for a slightly different reason. He never seemed to like it much, when he truly pissed off the older woman. "Hurry up. I want to get back."

"Why?" the teen retorted, not willing to be the only one feeling uneasy. "So the two of you can makeout more?"

"Please," Haven retorted as she took to looking over what contents the wagon held. "Don't make me lose my lunch."

"Haven," Locke complained with a glare, but as she took over going over the list, Xavier turned his attention to the box in the man's arms.

"What's that?" he asked, coming over to get a peek inside.

Allowing this, Locke remarked, "My parents sent me a box of stuff. Just, uh, some thing to remind me of home. Here, you want a cookie? My mom made them."

"My mom's cooking is better." Haven, done glancing over the wagon, took to pulling it instead, leaving the guys behind. "Her baking too."

Her boyfriend snorted, glaring after her, but she only continued on, apparently wishing to finish off the list on her own. Which was fine; Xavier seemed pretty intrigued with the stuff in the box.

"What's this fruit?"

"You've never had a kiwi?" Locke spared a smile for the boy. Pulling the box back when he tried to snag one from the it, the older guy said, "C'mon. I'll buy you a fresh one. My Exceed loves them."

"You're what?"

"I've never told you about Lily?" Locke felt poorly about that, for some reason. Sighing, he started out for the nearest fruit stand. "Maybe it's a good thing we're having some downtime; we can have a chance to really talk."

"Lily? You mean your cat? You feed your cat fruits?"

"It's...more complicated than that."

Most things, Locke found out the more he associated outside of his guild, was when it came to his upbringing.

"Lily's like a, uh, cat that can talk," Locke said then. "With wings. And he can grow to the size of a full grown man."

Xavier blinked some before remarking, "Does Haven know that you're full of shit?"

"I'm serious," Locke insisted. "All of the Dragon Slayers have them. Well, the real ones, anyways. Don't, uh, tell Haven I said that though."

They were before a stand now, looking down at the colorful spread, and while Locke looked for something specific, Xavier only munched on the cookie he'd snagged from the box. When the older guy, eventually, presented him with a prized kiwi, Xavier took it instead, glancing over the fuzzy fruit.

"You just...bite it?" the teen asked after the older man tossed a coin to the fruits stand attendant. "Or-"

"You peel it." And Locke was quick to snatch the fruit back, a magic circle appearing before his finger took a metallic shape. Taking to doing it for the teen, "Lily does like eating them whole though. Somehow."

"It must've been cool, I guess." Xavier wasn't very glad when he was presented with a sticky, dripping mess of two halves of fruit, but tried to seem as appreciative as possible as he took a bite of the sweet kiwi. "Having a talking cat."

"I mean, it was just my life," Locke remarked with a shrug. "But he is pretty cool. Definitely the best of all the Exceeds."

"Does your dad, like...have to brush him? And feed him? Like a real cat? Or-"

"He's more like an...uncle. Or older brother. A friend," Locke decided. "Than a cat."

"I always wanted a brother," the younger guy remarked wistfully. "And a cat. A cat brother would have been cool."

"I wanted a brother too," Locke assured him. "A real one. When I was younger. Sometimes I wanted an older one, that would tussle with me and take me out on jobs. Or other times I wanted a younger one, like how Haven has a sister, who would follow me around and I could play with." Shaking his head some then, he asked, "Are you an only child?"

And Xavier seemed rather interested then, in his kiwi, not rightly able to look at the man as he said, "Yeah. I guess so."

"You guess?" When the other guy didn't answer, Locke reached over to tap him on the shoulder. As Xay followed, Locke led him to an empty curb, where they could sit and the boy could finish his kiwi. Once they were down though, the older man only asked, "Hey, uh, I guess I just assumed that you're from Bosco. Are you?"

Nodding, the teen said, "I'd never left it before I followed Astra here. It's...different. In good ways. But-"

"Home's home," Locke assured him. "And when we clear that place up, instill some actual change, I'll be glad to see you back there."

"What do you even think it will look like?" Xavier found, personally, kiwi wasn't for him, and quickly downed all he could in one huge gulp. Around this, he continued, "When we're done?"

"Bosco? Well...there'll be no slaves. I guess. A new king. Or something."

"Like Astra? Will she be the queen?"

"I don't fucking know, X." Locke frowned over at him. "There's other shit too. I mean, I guess. Unfair, imbalanced power. I mean, we have a fucking queen; she doesn't own us. Our royal guard isn't shoved down our throat all the way in Magnolia. I'm all for cultural differences, but your kingdom needs an entire overhaul."

This sounded boring to Xavier though and, with another shrug, he just remarked, "I'd probably want some Exceeds. Of our own. Cat brothers. And sisters I guess. Uncles. Moms and dads."

"I mean, I don't think…" Locke trailed off then, scratching at the back of his head. He could see Haven still, marching about, filling her cart while haggling obnoxiously in the mostly empty shopping strip. Sighing some, he gave in, "Maybe. X. Maybe."

The afternoon was nearly wasted away by the time they set back out for home. And it was all but behind them by the time they arrived. But they still had quite the walk back then, with Xavier tossing around a rubber ball Locke had given him a jewel to buy, while the man himself needled his girlfriend a bit, now that she seemed to be in a better mood, over writing her parents again, especially her younger sister.

All in all, it was a rather jovial return for the trio and things were much the same, an hour away, back at base. The night was cool and a lot of those who hung around too a late evening dip in the river.

Shae though had other plans.

"No wonder you fit in so well, in the penthouse," Lize remarked as she stood in the tiny room split between Shae and Astra. "You're used to living better than everyone else."

"I'd hardly call this better," Shae retorted as she flicked on the light though her eyes stayed on Lize, watching as the other woman took a healthy glance around before going to sit on the edge of one of the twin beds.

"Than a tent?" Lize snorted, but it was with a soft smile. "Try sleeping in one some time."

"You have a sleeping bag too."

"I'll trade you," the other woman remarked as she was glancing down now, rooting through the jacket that hung over her shoulders for a lighter and her pack of smokes. Distracted some what by the action, she absently offered, "You take the tent."

Shae only sighed though, coming to sit on the edge of the opposite bed. There was so little space between the two beds that the women's knees just barely brushed. Softly, Shae remarked, "I used to stay in a tent too. Before."

"Before?"

"We used to be a bigger group," Shae went on. "Astra and this man that she knew, they mostly stayed in the house. Richard too. I think he owns this land, somehow, through his guild. It wasn't until everyone ditched out that Astra let X and I come in out of the cold."

"Why'd they leave?"

"We weren't...like this before." Shae looked off. "Things are different right now. The way we're going about things. We weren't...looking to free people, before. Astra and her partner… But Haven and Locke showed up. They're from a pretty important guild, I guess, and Astra thought we should see what they could do. Haven took care of Ewing's place alone and then Locke helped me and her, you know, with..."

"Monty."

His name still felt heavy on Lize's lips and Shae gave her a sympathetic glance, but the other woman only seemed concerned with taking a deep drag then, and it wasn't unlike having Astra in the room. At least in that sense.

"Sorry," Shae whispered. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's fucking weird having him hang around all the time. Everyone thinks so."

"You mean Locke?"

Nodding, Lize remarked, "You're friends, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, I guess so. He was just doing his part. We wouldn't have gotten out of there without him. They'd have caught us off in the tunnels. And he never really hurt anyone, you know, he just-"

"Yeah, I know." And Lize sounded somewhat annoyed then. "I didn't say that he did; I just said its weird to still see him hanging around."

"Like a constant reminder?"

But Lize smiled then, lowering her cigarette as she shrugged. "Who could forget? With or without him?"

An uncomfortable silence gripped them then and they encountered this at times.

Since arriving back together from Bosco, Shae found that she was spending an increasing amount of time with the other woman. Which, considering the penthouse women that hung around seemed to be her given jurisdiction, that seemed to make sense, but things with Lize felt...different.

In a way they shouldn't.

Lize had just gone through massive trauma, the likes of which Shae was distanced from. Her tribulations in the Bosco had never escalated to that level and while she knew she needed to be available to the women who'd escaped, to help them when she could, she was also aware of the space they also required.

Things felt natural though, with Lize, the more time they spent together. They were forging a friendship of their own, if not something more, and as they sat there together, Shae found she was glad the woman had chosen to stick around.

For however long she decided.

"Locke's a good guy," Shae decided then, to insist, as even if the moment slipped away from them, she didn't rightly want any other impression to be left. "He's really a big softy. You should get to know him."

"Maybe." Lize brought her smoke back up with a shrug. "He's always with that blonde though. Haven? The blighted one."

"I don't think her magic shit is a...blight. But-"

"I know magic." The woman prided herself a bit, even, on what she did know. "What she wielded that day felt different."

"It's a demon. Or something."

"Or something."

"Lize?"

"Hm?"

"Is it actually terrible in the tents?" And Shae took a more serious tone then. Astra had, actually, left her in charge after all. Or so it seemed. She was the only one out of the main people who seemed concerned with keeping things under control. "I know it's not great, but we thought we'd have more time to figure something out. Of where to put people."

"I mean, it's no faive-star resort-"

"Lize-"

"-but it's fine. It's better than fucking barracks. Actual privacy. Distance from others." Lize shrugged some. "Lived in worse. Before...Monty's place. Grew up in a fucking beat up old cabin on the back of someone's property, five of us women in there, living piratically on top of one another. I'm sure most of the other marked can't claim much better."

"Former," Shae reminded. "marked. And it's going to be winter soon. We'll have to do something with you guys. Build...structures. Not, uh, a...cabin or barracks, but something. Maybe some small structures? Or-"

"I'm telling you." And Lize seemed sure about this. "Everyone's just glad to be here."

Mostly, at least.

When the trio arrived back with supplies, most everyone was around to help clear them out, and Haven mentioned to Xavier his help wasn't needed; he should go check in, instead, on his little project.

"Go pester your friend for awhile," she remarked with a thump to his head. "Try not and tell her about the others though. Girls don't like that."

"It's not like that," Xay complained, batting at her hand, but he did set off to go clear his throat, loudly, before Nessa's tent and hope she was up for a visit.

It felt like such a peaceful day. Almost a normal one, maybe, or at least the new kind that they were all adjusting to, and no one rightly knew that Astra would be arriving back that day, alone, playing high spirits as she was warmly greeted from those around, but there was something more, just beneath the surface with her.

There always seemed to be.

"We've hit a snag," she remarked simply. "The tunnel system is vast, but destroyed, in parts. Tunnels have been caved in and manually sealed off."

"Locke could cut through it," Shae remarked, glancing over at the man. "I mean, some of it, can't you?"

They were having dinner inside the night, Astra, Shae, Locke, Haven, and Xavier. The teen had forced his way in when the group tried to keep him out and seemed to be conscious of the fact he wasn't wanted, eating silently and mostly just listening.

"W-Well," he started, but of course, Haven took over.

"No fucking way." Then she frowned when she felt her boyfriend's glare. "I just mean that, yeah, his magic can cut through some stuff, but getting rid of debris and shit? That's manual labor. We'll just all have to pitch in and clean it out."

" _No fucking way_ ," Astra remarked back, mocking, maybe, but Haven was too busy trading looks with Locke, at her side, to notice the woman across from her. Sighing some, the oldest woman told them all, "There's too much of it. All around. The tunnels are in disrepair. Some of it seems intentional. Luka surmises that it was done intentionally, in some parts by the Kingdom, to ensure the ending of their more illicit exports."

"Yeah, don't sling dope underground when you're trading people top side," Shae snorted, but Astra merely sighed.

"There's money to be made for the Kingdom," Astra offered. "In the slave-trade. Underground drug trafficking? Not so much. And besides, my point is, we're going to need some heavy lifting to get some of these rocks and debris out of the way. I was hoping, between the three of you-"

"Four," Xavier whispered softly, but only Locke seemed willing to give him a grin.

"-someone might know some sort of...magic or something. That could help us." Astra looked around, but seemed mostly interested with the couple. "Someone from your guild, perhaps?"

"My uncle's a beast," Haven remarked around a mouth full of soup. "Literally. He's called Beat Arm Elfman."

"My dad eats metal," Locke agreed. "And Pantherlily's sword can cut through the largest stones."

But Astra seemed unimpressed. "I mean, maybe. But I was hoping for something a bit...faster? Or-"

"Kai." Haven frowned, even just from speaking his name. Looking to Locke, she said, "Can't he control the ground? Or some shit?"

"I mean…I really wouldn't want to get him caught up in this shit," Locke told her. "Plus, he'd be slower than my dad just eating it all. I mean, Haven, his magic well has to be pretty close to dry."

"Yeah, but-"

"I," Shae brought up slowly, "might know someone. Who could help us."

"Really?" Astra looked to her then. "Someone you write? And get here soon?"

"Not exactly." Shae shifted, uncomfortable. "They're across the boarder."

"In Bosco?" Haven asked, but the other woman merely shook her head.

"In Joya. Back home." Shae shook her head. "She's an ex, but-"

"But you can get her to come here." Astra seemed insistent on hammering that home. "Can't you?"

"We really didn't end on good-"

"How can she help?" Xavier spoke up again because, honestly, the keeping out of the way thing never seemed to work for long.

"She can move rocks." Shae could, at least, look at him. "It's her magic. She-"

"Then she has to," Astra seemed certain of this, "come. And you're going to bring her here."

"I mean, I can always ask, but I don't even know if she'd read a letter, if I wrote one. So-"

"Then you'll go to her. In person."

"Astra-"

"We need to tunnels. The first part of getting them is done. You did it." Astra leveled her gaze. "Now I need you to do the easiest part."

"It's not going to be easy."

"Of course it is," Astra said. "You tell her that you were taken captive, in Bosco, and that now you need her help to keep that from happening to others."

"You want me to just drop back in her life and dump all of that on-"

"Yes!"

"I'll go with you. Shae." Locke looked over then. "Would that be fine? I'll do all the talking. I've never been to Joya, but I am something of a mediator between unruly people-"

"Are you talking about me?" Haven frowned. "Right in front of me?"

"I can afford, maybe," Astra intervened, "round trip for one of you to Joya. And it would be pushing it. But two of you-"

"I used to run with smugglers." Haven, finished with her meal, pushed the rest of it towards Locke as she confidently asserted, "I can get us across the boarder. For free. Well, mostly."

"Smugglers?" Locke frowned at her, shoving her food right back. "Or treasure hunters?"

"I'm a social butterfly, Locke," she retorted simply. "I know a lot of people."

"You," Xay tried, "get around."

"Haven," Locke kept up. "If you're talking about those guys from the capital-"

"If they can get Shae across the boarder to get us someone to clear the tunnels," Astra spoke up, "then I don't give a fuck what they are. Smugglers, treasure hunters, jewel thieves-"

"No one said anything about thieves," Haven defended a bit, but this seemed to only put Locke out more as he huffed and crossed his arms over his chest tightly.

"Well, no one smuggles things they lawfully own," Shae remarked, but then she was frowning more as she shook her head. "I can't do this though. I'm sorry. What about this Kai guy? Can't he-"

"No," Haven replied flatly. "Whatever you're going to say, he can't."

"You're going." Astra, having not touched her meal, stood then as she pulled her smokes from her pocket. "The three of you."

"Four," Xay whispered, but still, he was ignored.

"And," Astra kept up as she lit up, "you're going to bring this _ex_ back here. Shae. You have to. I want these tunnels at least somewhat cleared out and ready for quick escapes before we launch a full attack. Those are orders. Like...listen to them or something. March. Whatever."

"Astra, I get to go too, right? Right?" Xavier was quick to follow the woman out of the house, chasing after her, almost. "Hey, Astra!"

It was just the three of them, again, after a few weeks of avoidance and when Shae lifted her eyes to find Haven's, she was met with the wide, shit-eating grin the blonde had been missing for so long.

"Looks like I'm taking you home," she offered in jest to the other woman with a bit of a snicker.

Her joy was killed off though, as her gaze caught the strong one of her boyfriend at her side, his eyes not filled with the same fearfulness that Shae's kept, but rather a stony edge.

"Who is it, Haven?" he questioned plainly. "Who's going to help us get across the boarder?"

Souring, she told him simply, "If you were a good S-Class mage, you'd have your own fucking connections instead of relying on mine."

"Haven-"

"As it stands, you hardly ever get out of your mommy and daddy's little thumb and have no friends of your own. None that fucking matter." Shoving up then, she said simply, "We leave tomorrow. We take a train out to where I know some guys that will help us out. We get over, get your girl, Shae, and come back to knock the rocks out of the fucking tunnels. So I can get back into Bosco and finish my goddamn job."

Shae, finally, found something to be annoyed with that wasn't her own inner turmoil. Making a face at Haven, she asked, "Why are the fuck are you mad at me?"

"I'm not." Haven huffed, standing tall. "I'm speaking assertively."

"You're shouting," Locke retorted, not even looking at her. "Because you did fucked shit when you were running around on your own and hate it every single time I bring it up."

"I did fucked shit?"

"You always do fucked shit- Oh, run away, Haven. That's great. Real mature."

"I'm _not_ running away." And she turned back, at the door, just to glare at him. "Idiot."

"She's walking assertively," Shae offered and now, yes, Haven was mad at her too.

Which was fine.

Alone at the table now, just Shae and Locke, the pair found one another staring at each other for a second before she sighed down at her plate and he, finished with his own, took the fact Haven was gone to drag hers back over in front of him.

"It'll be alright, Shae," he offered the woman all the same. "If it makes you feel better, I guess, technically, Haven was my ex for about three years. So you don't have the worst one in history, at least."

"Astra doesn't get it."

"Astra doesn't get anything." He reached across the table though, to pat at her shoulder. "It's asking a favor though. Right? Of a girl you loved. Or once loved. Whatever. We're all adults. And we're doing it to help people. Slaves. Who would say no to that? Not someone you loved, right?"

Looking off, the woman finally took to picking at her dinner before saying, "It'll be nice, at least. To go back home. I guess."

"Yep." He gave an uneasy smile then, Locke did, as he remarked for the second time that day, "Home's home."


End file.
